


Virtually Separated

by AntlersandFangs, Celtic_Lass



Series: Virtually Faded Universe [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family reunion!!, Gets a little gray, Kidnap- uh... fostering., MGiT, Modern Character in Thedas, The kids are amazing!, This will hurt, broken bonds, in universe racism, now all we need is a few hobbits and we have a fellowship :D, we are aware Emma took the brains with her somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 54,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntlersandFangs/pseuds/AntlersandFangs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Lass/pseuds/Celtic_Lass
Summary: She's gone. She's gone, and there is nothing he can do besides care for their children and try to keep Solas alive till she makes it back.because he believes she'll come backShe has toContinuation of Virtually Faded
Relationships: Alistair/Josephine, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Male Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast
Series: Virtually Faded Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486343
Comments: 558
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

A moment was all it took for Loghain’s world to crumble as surely as the town around them. He had seen her rip apart Corypheus, using the power of the orb to turn him into so much dust. He had seen her collapse, screaming and clutching her arm as green and red power crackled and snapped, flowing upwards towards her heart. She had screamed, “Take it! Please! Take it!”, her back arching in agony, and Solas had drawn his sword with a desperate expression, swinging it and removing her arm with a single flash of the blade. 

She had frozen and time seemed stretched out and slowed as she looked up at Solas, her lips parted in an unspoken word. And then… she disappeared as her fallen arm exploded into crackling green power that sank into Solas’ skin when it touched him. She was gone. 

Solas collapsed to his knees, his fingers clawing at his head as the green magic flared around and in him, a horrid, primal scream tearing from his throat. He screamed in pain and loss and the sound was terrible in its agony.

Damon was clutching his stomach, his teeth bared in a pained snarl as he forced his way through the green power crackling around Solas, his eyes gold and desperate as he reached out and touched Solas’ shoulder.

There was a flash and then Damon fell, his body spasming and shaking as it had in the vision in the Fade. Solas’ fingernails drew red lines down his own face as he lunged for Damon, his eyes green and his voice warping around another scream. “NO!”

He slammed his hand against Damon’s stomach, green power crackling and flaring, and then Damon went limp and still. Solas panted and made an agonized keening noise, curling around himself and pressing his face to Damon’s chest as he wept with loud, breathless sobs. 

Maker. She was gone. 

Loghain felt numb with shock and fear and confusion. 

She was gone.

Bull stepped forward cautiously. “Solas.” His voice was soft.

Solas keened and green crackled warningly around him.

“I need to check on the Boss. Can I check on him?”

Solas gasped raggedly and looked up, his eyes crackling green as a rift before he laid his hands on Damon’s chest and then they were gone in an eye bending blur of magic.

“Kaffas. He fade stepped.” Dorian said. “Where-”

“To the children.” Loghain felt it as certainly as he knew the breach in the sky was sealed. They were grieved and pained, wolves without their pack mate. They would return to their den, to their cubs to lick their wounds and make sure they were safe. 

She was gone.

“What happened?!” 

She was gone. 

His knees gave out beneath him. His daughter. His Emma. 

“She’s gone.” 

  
  
  
  
  


They found them beneath the white tree Damon had planted for Solas. Damon was leaning against the small trunk of the tree, Solas wrapped protectively in his arms, their magic crackling around them in unstable ripples of gold and green. The ancient elves would not let her near them, would not let anyone near them, speaking in urgent tones in elvhen, which she had not learned enough of to understand beyond ‘stop’. 

One of them fetched Abelas, whose face fell into an expression of fear and loss as soon as he was close enough to see the pair.

“What is happening?” Cassandra asked desperately, fear clinging to her throat and making her sword arm ache with the need to fight something. 

“Leal’sa…” Abelas breathed before looking at her with pained eyes. “Leal’sa- the Lady Emma, she is… gone. Their auras are wounded from her loss.” 

“Emma?” She felt shock and disbelief at the words. “No… she cannot be.”

Abelas closed his eyes before settling into a determined expression. He stepped towards the tree, unheeding of the crackling magic even as it flared and snarled at his approach. He began speaking softly in elvhen to the pair, and after what felt like an eternity, Damon opened his eyes. 

His eyes were gold and he was crying, gold tracks of tears running down his face as he listened to Abelas speak. Slowly, he nodded and struggled to his feet, each movement slow and pained as he hefted Solas into his arms like… like he did with Emma. Cassandra followed as Abelas began walking backwards, leading Damon towards the main hall. It was slow going, Solas’ magic crackling and reaching desperately and each of Damon’s steps pained and wearied. What had happened? Where was Emma?

Eventually they reached Damon’s room and he set Solas down on the couch before dropping to his knees. 

“Ma’tarlen… their magic is torn and lashing out, seeking that which is lost.” Abelas said quietly. “Ser Damon… says he might know of a way to calm Ser Solas’ aura, but it would involve blood and he will not without your consent.” 

“Blood magic?!” Why-? Of all things to ask her, why blood magic? Where was Emma?

“Vin.” Yes. “To…” He glanced at Damon hesitantly before continuing. “To create a link between them, as with Lady Emma. To soothe their auras.” 

“Where is Emma?” She was confused and Solas was weeping, curled as if wounded, babbling nonsensically in elvhen and Damon was panting and weeping and asking for her permission to perform blood magic and the sky was healed and- “Where is she?”

Damon shuddered and looked at her and she could  _ feel  _ his anguish. “She… she went back. To where we’re from. She’s gone.” He clutched his hand, the hand with Emma’s mark, with the line of their link. The silver was gone. “She- I almost went with her. Our bond… It- Solas had to rip it apart, had to-” He looked up at her again, desperate. “I’m holding onto my body through sheer will, Cass. Whatever is- it’s trying to send me back. Back where I’m dead, Cass” 

Fear. Dread. Back but- No! “And the blood magic… with Solas?” 

“It might… it’ll tie me to here, to him, like I was tied to Em.” He shuddered and the gold around him crackled and now that she was looking she could see that he was desperately trying to keep it from escaping. “Possibly.” 

Cassandra looked around helplessly before her hand settled on her stomach, and she took a deep breath. “Do it.” Maker help her, she could not lose him, lose the father of their child, their children, when there was a way to keep him here.

He nodded and drew his knife and began speaking softly to Solas, who shook his head and curled away from Damon. She couldn’t hear what he was saying over the crackle and roar of their magics, but suddenly Solas’ eyes widened and he thrust his right hand out. Damon nodded and drew the blade across his palm, and then across the palm of his own right hand. They clasped hands and Damon whispered something that Solas shakily repeated. Their magics flared, and then the gold disappeared and Damon nearly collapsed against the edge of the couch. The green of Solas’ magic crackled once more before slowly settling.

The air sounded eerily silent as she regarded the pair, Damon slumped on the ground in a picture of weariness and Solas curled around himself, tears leaking from behind closed eyelids. The wounds across their hands were gone, replaced with shimmering lines the color of each other’s magic. She hesitantly stepped forward and Damon murmured. “Kids. need.” 

Touch. To ground. She looked at Abelas, who looked as lost as she felt. “Go fetch the children, all of them.” 

He nodded and turned sharply on his heel and she couldn’t even feel guilty at ordering him so sharply because she was kneeling by Damon and pulling his head into her lap and he pressed his face against her stomach, trembling in her grasp as she reached up and rested her hand on Solas’ arm, who made a heartbroken whimpering sound at the contact. 

Emma. Gone. 

Solas was murmuring in elvhen under his breath, rocking slightly in his grief when Abelas returned with the twins in his arms, looking extremely uncomfortable and terrified of his burden, Danielle following with Gaelathe on her hip and Ash’s hand in hers. They looked terrified and uncertain. 

“Come sit with us, darlings.” Cass said softly. “Your papa and babae need to know you are alright.” 

Abelas moved and carefully laid Iselan onto the couch in front of Solas with a murmured, “ma’tarlin.” Solas moved as if trapped in a nightmare as he gently picked up Iselan and cradled her to his chest before accepting Emmaera. He clutched them tightly and keened painfully over them as Danielle slid onto the couch beside him and touched his shoulder, her legs pressed against Damon’s back. 

“Where’s… where’s mamae?” She asked as Gealathe clutched her shirt. Ash sat gingerly by Damon’s legs. 

Cass swallowed, what was she supposed to say? What could she say? 

“Your mamae… she had to go back… to where we came from.” Damon’s voice was hoarse and muffled against her belly. “She fixed the sky, and had to go back.” 

Danielle’s lip trembled before she nodded and pressed against Solas’ side.

Ash looked stricken and his hands shook as he signed. “Is papa going back too?”

“No.” Cass said sharply, then gentled her tone with a deep breath. “No, he and your babae made it so he can stay.” 

“Why not mamae?” Danielle said into Solas’ shaking shoulder.

She opened her mouth to answer but… She didn’t know. 

“I wasn’t strong enough.” Damon whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. All the magic in the world and I wasn’t strong enough.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Abelas felt as if the world had shifted again, turning on end and leaving him lost and floundering once more. Leal’sa, The Bright One, One of The Three, Princess… was gone. 

He could sense the great, screaming wounds in Fen’Harel’s aura, the agony and pain that followed Amelan and Fen’Harel like a cloak. She was gone and the loss of her had wounded his lords terribly. They had locked themselves in Amelan’s room, only allowing Seeker Cassandra and himself to come and go with the children while they used their pact to try and settle their magics, to bring some sanity back to Fen’Harel.

Selfishly, he found himself terrified. The Three had been balanced, revolving around each other as if tethered together by magic, which they had been. How would they shift without her? Fen’Harel had created the veil to avenge the murder of his friend, what would he and Amelan do to avenge Their bonded and sister before they faded? 

Banal’ras returned through the eluvians with Amelan and Leal’sa’s father and the rest of their company. Amelan had left his room long enough to grab Loghain into a tight hug that left both of them shaking and blinking back tears when they parted.

A hush fell over Skyhold, a blanket of grief and silence in the absence of The Bright One. The Ambassador threw a celebration for the defeat of the Elder One and the closing of the sky, but the event was subdued and respectful of the one they had lost to do so. Amelan sat in their throne the entire event, watching the activity with a blank expression. Abelas stayed nearby, ready to act the moment he said what he needed.

His purpose had shifted over the next few days. He was still the Trainer, but for some reason Amelan relied on him for… for what he wasn’t sure. His lord’s magic was unsettled and pained and he could not sense his need beyond it. But Amelan asked him to fetch the children, to keep watch over Seeker Cassandra, to translate the more archaic mutterings of Fen’Harel, to just… stay nearby. So he did. 

Banal’ras quietly stepped back from his position as their attendant without a word. He was rarely seen outside of his chambers.

Abelas was waiting outside the door to Amelan’s room, waiting for the reach of magic that he used to call him in when the little lord approached, Leal’sa’s father behind him. The little lord looked up at him pensively before moving his hands slowly. Ser Loghain looked pained before translating quietly. “He is asking if you have seen… what happened? No, what is wrong with Solas and Damon before.” 

“Vin, da’tarlin.” It had been a pair of Mythal’s Sentinels. The one left behind had not survived this long. “Ma’tarlin is grieving,” he didn't wish to tell the child they would not last long… this was why bonding had been forsaken among Nobles. It was a fatal weakness.

The little lord’s eyes narrowed and he moved his hands sharply. Ser Loghain winced. “Ash…”

Lord Ash whirled on his grandfather and made emphatic gestures and the older man sighed. “He says… that you think they will die, don’t you?” 

Abelas looked down, unsure how to answer the child. “They… there is… it is not certain.”

The child’s eyes began tearing up, but his lips peeled back into a soundless snarl before he charged through the door. Abelas followed, uncertain of how to handle the little lord but uncertain how Amelan and Fen’Harel would react to being disturbed. The little lord charged towards where Amelan was curled on the couch beside Fen’Harel and… slapped him before beginning to move his hands in broad, angry gestures.

Amelan looked horrified. “Ash- I-”

The little lord bared his teeth before looking at Fen’Harel, letting out a hoarse whisper of a growl as he pointed sharply. 

Fen’harel closed his eyes with a pained expression before he reached out and pulled the boy into his arms. “No, Da’lin. We are not leaving. We just miss your Mamae.”

The boy frowned before moving his hands again, pressing a fist to Fen’Harel’s chest in question. The smile his Lord gave was small and laced with pain. “Yes. the twins have part of her in them. I… I know, Ash. I am trying.” 

Amelan closed his eyes briefly in pain and reached around to cup the little lord’s cheek. His words were laced with determination. ”I’m not going anywhere, Ash. And neither is your babae.” 

Abelas heard the door open and he turned in time to see the Seeker reach the top of the stairs. He bowed his head to her and backed away, giving them the privacy they deserved. He would be called if needed. 

  
  
  


A day that should have been joyous, should be accompanied with smiling faces was solemn and subdued. Leliana was privileged to reside over Damon and Cassandra’s wedding before she was to leave for Val Royeaux. Once again, Emma’s prediction had been correct: She had been selected as a candidate for Divine, Cassandra declining made her currently the only one save a few that didn’t have a hope. 

Hope. It was a funny thing, how despite ancient elves and Elder Ones and everything else she had discovered the past couple of years, her faith was only stronger. Emma had appeared in their time of need, and had left when that need had ended. Back, as Damon kept saying. She had gone back. Much like the song she shared in the aftermath of Adamant’s battle. 

She’ll come back… when she’s needed… when she’s called.

Solas came to the wedding, a silent, blank faced observer. The first he had left Damon’s rooms since she had been called back. He was no longer looked the proud elf she had gotten to know over the last year. He looked drained, pale, with pain written in every line of his body despite his blank expression.

The children stood by him, Danielle and Ash pressed to both of his sides as if to lend strength. He looked… broken. She had heard Emma and Damon refer to him as her bonded and now… she could not help but wonder if that had been one of their hidden truths instead of a poetic turn of phrase. If his bond had been torn when she had been called back. 

Cassandra was a vision of beauty and strength in her simple yet elegant gold silk gown. Almond blossoms, from Emma’s forever blooming tree, were woven into her hair in a crown. She was stunning, and Damon’s breath caught at the sight of her. Despite his grief for his sister, he took his moments of happiness, taking Cassandra’s hand in his reverently. He truly loved her and that love was reflected back in her friend’s eyes.

Leliana lead them through the vows and when Damon spoke his she could feel his intent in every word… truth, something tangible. He meant every word. The kiss they shared afterward was accompanied with the first clear honest shouts and applause of happiness since Corypheous’ fall.

Even Solas managed the slightest ghost of a smile, as he left the children’s side and ascended the steps to grip Damon’s arm in congratulations then hug Cassandra before he disappeared into the nursery with his daughters, Abelas following him like a shadow.

Leliana began to see the patterns within the Inquisition, days before she was to leave. She began to spot the elves, the ones slightly taller, slightly broader than the others, the ones that whispered of Leal’sa. Those were the ancient elves and there were so many, tucked throughout the ranks, some of them faces that had been there nearly from the beginning, many of them ones that Damon had brought in himself. How had she not noticed them before? But now that she knew… She could see the way they listed after Damon, eyes following him, sometimes their hands would move as if to reach out. Some of them, such as Abelas or the elves from the temple, would speak to him respectfully, almost worshipfully. 

He may not be the fabled Dread Wolf, but he was  _ something _ to the ancient elves. And all of them felt his grief keenly. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dorian had been unpacking the new shipment of books… enjoying the simple familiarity of it. Something to keep his mind occupied, things were… just not the same. Who could have thought that the loss of Emma’s presence would result in the entirety of Skyhold falling under a cloud of grief? He did, of course. She was a ‘precious bean’ as she used to say. 

He sighed heavily as he placed another book in its respective place alphabetically. There was a list in his room filled with numbers of her ‘dewey system’ for organizing them, but he had not had the willingness to begin transferring the books into her system. He was just about to reach for another from the crate when a wave of power-grief-anger-loss hit him and made him stagger from the strength of the magical outburst. Solas. 

The power was overwhelming and Dorian struggled to bring up his shields, to protect his mind from the terrible agony within it. He moved to the railing, clinging to it as he searched for Solas. He found him in the midst of the chaotic magic, grabbing anything within reach and throwing it, his magic splintering the furniture around him in its wild, agonized fury. 

Dorian was confident in his abilities as a mage, but there was no way he would be able to match the raw power the elf had. Solas was screaming in wild pain and grief and fury when the door opened in a flare of gold magic. Damon burst in, his hand flaring green and he barely stopped to look at the ruins of the room before he lunged at Solas, wrapping him tightly into his arms and… Vishante Kaffas…  _ smothered _ Solas’ incredible outburst of power with his own. 

“Solas!” Damon’s words glowed with intent in that odd, terrifying way of his and Dorian felt the urge to calm, to relax, to rein in his magic. 

“Asa’vara. ar’ame’u. Ar nuvena dina.” Solas gasped in elvhen. Dorian didn’t know much elvhen, but he knew nuvena meant wish and that dina meant to die and when you put them together it made a rather nasty sentence. 

Damon’s shoulders dropped before he pulled Solas away from him and gripped him harshly by his shoulders. “Solas! She made it here once. She might make it back. Are you going to just sit here and let the evanuris burn the world down before she does?” 

‘Evanuris’? What-?

Solas started as if struck and Damon shook him slightly, his teeth bared in that intent, primal way of his. “She’s out there and she is  _ impossible _ , Solas. Who knows what she’s up to right now? You- Fix this!” He punctuated the words with another shake. “You fix this world, make sure her children survive. You fucking  _ hold yourself together _ . All that magic, isa’ma’lin,  _ use it _ .” He gave Solas’ shoulders another desperate shake. “I am not going to face my sister one day and tell her I let you fade.” Damon said viciously. 

Solas slumped in weariness and grief, his breath ragged as he fought off sobs, but his magic settled, no longer whipping wildly against Damon’s shield. Dorian was shaken at both the words and the display of power from the pair. His fingers were still gripping the railing and he did not think he could make himself pry them from the wood just yet. 

“Ir abelas, ir abelas, Isa’ma’lin.” Solas’ voice sounded like a whisper but it still rang clear. “I will try… forgive me… i-“ the elf’s shoulders shook with repressed sobs before Damon pulled him into a hug.

“I know. I got that feeling thing, Sols. I know. But we’re gonna fix it, and we’re gonna wait, and she’s gonna show up at the worst possible moment and it’s going to be beautiful. Right? Now. I know you need to clean house. How are you going to do that? What are we doing?” Damon’s voice was gentle, but firm. 

Dorian could  _ hear _ his belief that Emma was going to return. The determination to hold things together until she did. He felt a small bit of his own being latch on to the small hope… Miniscule as it was. 

Damon looked up from over Solas’ head, his glowing gold eyes landing on him with unsettling intensity. He knew Dorian had seen all of that, had heard. He felt Damon’s magic pick through his before the man blinked away the gold from his eyes and suddenly Dorian felt he could breathe again. When had he stopped? 

He was never speaking of this event to anyone, no matter how sweetly terrifying the spymaster acted. Never. 

  
  
  
  


Fen'Harel was back. Abelas began to hope that perhaps his lord would in fact survive his broken bond. Overnight it seemed, Ser Solas was set aside and Fen’Harel emerged from his shadow, angry and hurting, but ready to hunt. Abelas had accompanied him, by Amelan’s wishes, when he went to Banal’ras room, entering without warning.

Banal’ras startled and rose from his bed, saluting from habit before his face tightened in… fear.

“You knew.” Fen’Harel said sharply. “You grieved before.”

Banal’ras bowed his head. “Vin, ma’tarlin.” 

“You said nothing.” 

“She demanded my silence.” 

“The Meddler?”

Banal’ras hesitated, his magic heavy with regret and wariness. “Leal’sa.” 

Fen’Harel’s aura flared in pain before it was closed away and he narrowed his eyes at Banal’ras. “Can I trust you? After this?”

Banal’ras settled in determination. “Forgive me, my lord, but I serve Leal’sa above all. You may trust me as much as you may trust her.” 

Fen’Harel hesitated for the slightest moment. “She is returning, then.”

“She is trying. And no, I cannot contact her. She is… gone, for now. I do not know when she will find the way to return.” Abelas felt shock and hope at Banal’ras’ words. “I was instructed to aid you until she does.” 

Fen’Harel studied Banal’ras for a long, heavy moment before nodding sharply. “Very well. Come. We have work to do.” 

  
  


When the Boss had left the underforge with Solas after getting his magic, Bull had seen how… scary the pair were together. They just gave off that sense of power, of danger. It had made the hair on his neck stand up and then Lil’Bit had asked if she looked like that, and the thing is, as tiny and sweet as she was, she did. He had played it off, knowing what she wanted to hear, but then he imagined her walking between them with that same predatory kind of grace, that sense of hidden power that people tended to ignore because she was so damn sweet. The mental image had given him the same feeling that facing down a dragon did, like you were toe to toe with something glorious, something terrible and strong and wonderful. 

Tanathe. The Three. Some of the elves whispered it, and he could see why. Even smiling and playing with kids and knitting and singing and painting, when the three of them were together you just  _ knew _ that together they could reshape the world. Shit, they were. Already Thedas was shifting around them according to how the Boss thought things should be. 

When Lil’Bit had disappeared and Solas had screamed and had- Bull didn’t like to think about it too much, but at that moment, seeing the magic crackling around Solas and then seeing his eyes lost in the green moments before he disappeared with the Boss… He had thought that maybe the world was ending, that everything was going to disappear in that green power because She Was Gone. 

But Boss was a scary sort of strong and though he was quieter, sadder, less prone to smiles and drinks, he managed to drag Solas through the looming madness hanging over the odd guy. But what came out of it… it was the image of Damon and Solas coming out of the underforge all over again.

Amelan.

That’s what the elves called Boss. The tall elves, with smaller eyes, the ones that didn't look uneasy at humans, the ones whose lips curled slightly at the sight of vallaslin. They called him Amelan, Tanathe. 

Lil’Bit had been Leal’sa. Dalish said it meant Bright One. 

Leal’sa, Amelan, Fen’Harel. Tanathe. If Boss was Amelan…

Fen’Harel.

Bull wasn’t one for superstition… but Fen’Harel was what came out of the Rotunda one day. Magic had exploded, green and lightning and agonized. He had gone running, scared for Dorian, so close to the heart of the power. But by the time he reached it, Boss had gone in already, gone to help Solas. 

When he came out… it wasn’t Solas anymore. He would have worried about demons the change was so pronounced, but he had seen it before, flashes and flares of the power, glimpses of the lurking wolf behind a mask. Fen’Harel had paused and looked him up and down, his face impassive and proud before he had turned and stalked away, leaving a wake of power and determination in his wake. 

Boss had come out afterwards, looking grimly satisfied. Dorian was in the library, his knuckles white on the railing, his eyes wide and terrified. He refused to say what had happened, only that Boss had dealt with Solas’ outburst. 

Bull didn’t know what unsettled him worse, Fen’Harel under their noses for so long, or that Boss was able to match, possibly overpower him. 

And Lil’Bit was gone. 

Things began changing. The Ambassador was sent a formal marriage offer from the king of Fereldon, Lil’Bit’s former ‘guest’ and she accepted, and Boss had smiled sharply and congratulated her on her engagement. 

Red was made Divine, and again Boss had smiled sharply and congratulated her. 

The Inquisition began shifting from a  peacekeeping force to a trade monopoly. Their crops in the valley, thanks to the mages were rare and coveted, Lil’bit’s tree among the most prized. The nuts all the rage in Orlais.

Fen’Harel began leaving silently with groups of his elves and Boss had that same sharp, satisfied expression at it.

Human nobles could not find  Skyhold anymore, but elves, dwarves, and tal vashoth began pouring in, with escorts of course. Those that didn’t appear directly into Skyhold, brought in by Fen’Harel, began gathering at a growing town at the edge of the shield that hid Skyhold. MoonCall, Boss called it jokingly, where they gathered to howl at the moon and be allowed into the wolf’s den. The name stuck. 

The town moved often, further and further away as the shield over Skyhold began growing larger every time Boss dumped his excess magic into it. 

The Seeker got rounder and rounder, Boss’ impossible child growing quickly as time passed until…

Anthony Ellas Theron. That wasn’t his full name. Boss refused to say his full name, citing ‘family magics’. 

The impossible child. Boss had brought him down to see him shortly after the kid was born, handing the tiny kid to him. He wasn’t as terrifyingly small in his hands as the twins were, but he was still small, and amazing, and Bull felt as if he had been entrusted with something precious when Boss had spoken softly. “Meet your Uncle Bull, little Ant.” It had been the same feeling from Lil’bit’s girls.

Little Ant. His to protect. 


	4. Chapter 4

Emma had left notes in a chest under her bed labelled “for the Divine (I know it’s you, Lelianna)”. It had been full of information, and a book of dried flowers. The information was coming in quite useful now. The Qunari threat was not as surprising, nor as dangerous as she had written, mostly due to the efforts of Damon and Solas behind the glass of their mirrors. 

But still the Council had been called, and the fate of the Inquisition was being decided. She had stalled, Josephine had stalled, until Damon came bursting through the doors with Divine Justinia’s writ in his hands. He made a speech and… Maker help her, she couldn’t remember what he had said, only that his words dripped with intent and will and she had been so agreeable, he had made so much sense, they should  _ listen _ . 

It wasn’t until she was staring at an official document, signed by the Emperor of Orlais, the King of Ferelden, the rulers of Nevarra and Antiva and the Free Marches, and even  _ her _ that she realized what Damon had done. 

Fenvhenan. The entirety of the Frostbacks had been renamed and given to him to rule, His to keep. Fenvhenan. Heart of the Wolf. She looked up from the writ, looked at her… her friend who was standing tall and proud, Solas and Cassandra at either side of him. He looked… resigned. Drained and weary. He had never wanted power, never wanted to rule. To do this...

“Damon…?” She started softly but could not continue. What could she say?

Her friend’s eyes softened for just a moment before he lifted his chin. “I am Damon no longer, your worship. I am Amelan.” 

Amelan.

Leal’sa.

Fen'Harel.

She looked at Solas, who had changed so much. Who stood with a wolf’s fur over his shoulders and his face hard and cold, power radiating from his skin.

He had laughed when she had confronted Damon- Amelan. 

Oh. 

Tanathe. 

  
  
  
  


Josephine was now a queen. Strange how life went. She had not expected… She had been in love with the children’s teacher that Emma had brought. She hadn’t expected… Well, what was to be expected about anything that Emma or Dam- Amelan did? She had fallen in love, he had been made king, and she had thought her heart would be broken despite the arrangements she and D-Amelan had made.

But Alistair had proposed, and they had a wonderful, beautiful wedding. And now she was queen and was expecting an heir in a few more months.

It was somehow easier than being the Ambassador for the Inquisition. 

She allowed herself to rub her temples in stress. Alistair dropped a kiss to the back of her neck. “What is it, love?” 

“Another empty manor. Every elf is simply… gone. And with them, the noble’s firstborn daughter.” 

Alistair sighed heavily and moved to sit behind her and rest his chin on her shoulder as he peered at the letter in her hand. “How many is that now?”

“Three in Fereldon. It is worse in Orlais, I hear. The nobles have taken to hiding their daughters but… it does not seem to help. They rely too heavily on elf labor. I don’t have as many contacts in Tevinter…” She sighed. “The elves are disappearing en masse there.”

Alistair was quiet for a moment before asking quietly. “Is it…?” 

“I suspect, yes. But I have no proof, no way of finding out for certain. I cannot simply  _ ask _ him. Maker help me, I don’t even know if I  _ want _ to know if it is them. What can we do if it is? Amelan and Fen’Harel… We cannot even find Fenvhenan. And even if we could, every mage that manifests travels to MoonCall to be accepted into their university.” 

“If it is them… why?” Alistair sounded confused but thoughtful as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I can understand elves and mages searching them out, but the nobles’ daughters? What are they doing?”

“From the view of the Great Game… they are taking ‘fosterlings’. The eldest daughter is…” She had taught Dam-Amelan this herself. “To take the eldest son, the heir, is to incite war. To take the youngest son is to threaten the eldest. To take the eldest daughter, is to open negotiations.” 

“What are they asking for?” 

“The elves in the alienage to remain safe and untouched. As best as I can guess. The nobles are refusing to talk, but each noble that has lost a daughter has begun to guard the alienages from any who try to harass the elves.” 

Alistair was quiet, his hand falling to her slightly rounded middle. “And… our people? Has anyone from our staff disappeared?”

“No. Not, disappeared anyway. They inform their superiors that they are leaving to Fenvhenan, and then they go. We…” She pressed a hand over her belly, uncertain fear gnawing at her that they might have a daughter. A firstborn daughter. “I… have a declaration I wrote up for you to read, perhaps sign. A… preventative measure. To declare elves under the protection of our laws for humans, equal. No purges, no... Everything that I can puzzle out that Am- whoever is taking the nobles’ daughters wants.” 

His breath caught sharply. “You think they would-?”

“I don’t know!” She shivered. “Damon would never, but he is Amelan now, and Emma is gone and... I don’t know.” 

Alistair’s arms tightened around her. “He won’t.” He said, his voice making her shiver at the determination in it. “He may be Emma’s brother but I will protect our child.”

That was what she was afraid of. He had not been there after Emma had disappeared. He had not seen Amelan and Solas’ power, their sharp grief and the way their magic crackled like- Grief… grief like that changed people, her friends… they were different. “Would you read it?” 

“Of course.” Alistair kissed her shoulder once more before taking the papers she had worked feverishly over since the first Fereldon noble’s daughter had vanished. 

Barely a week had passed after the new laws went into effect and a parcel appeared in their bedchambers. A box filled with knitted boots, blankets, mittens, and a letter. ‘Congratulations. Please accept these with my sincerest well wishes. You never have to fear the wolves. -A’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides in corner* Don't kill me! -A&F


	5. Fosterling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a purposefully vague time jump from the last chapter :)

Rochelle had been dutifully practicing her penmanship when her maid bustled into her room and bobbed a curtsey. “Pardon me, mistress, but the Master requested that I escort you on your evening walk.” 

She frowned at the light outside the window, it seemed much too early for a walk. But father must want her out of the manor while a particularly unwelcome noble visited. “Very well, you may dress me.” She sighed and set aside her parchments and stood so that her maid could begin the process of unlacing her training corset. 

Much later, she was finally dressed in her proper outdoor gown and shoes and was ambling along the garden paths with her maid following at a respectful distance. The rabbit was always so eager to please normally, that her silence made Rochelle uneasy. She turned to berate the girl for not entertaining her, only to gape when she realized that the servant had been joined by rabbit stable hands and servants. She turned, trying to keep her posture as it had been, and made to return for the house. The manor was out of sight and far too far away for anyone to hear her call out. Her maid smiled at her. “Are you done already, mistress? I fear your father might not be pleased if you return too early. We can perhaps go to the pond and see the new swans?”

Rochelle narrowed her eyes at the rabbit. “I wish to return home. I’m tired.” 

The knife ears exchanged looks, and that confirmed it for her. Something was going on. Before she could grab her skirts to run though, a strong hand clamped over her mouth and an arm like iron pinned her arms to her sides and picked her up. She tried to scream and fight, kicking wildly as she realized what was happening, but another knife ear, this one from the fields, simply captured her legs and they began carrying her off. 

She tried going limp, she tried going stiff, she tried pretending she had fainted, but they simply would not loose their grip on her. When one grew tired, another would just take their place. They seemed to gather more and more knife ears as they walked, all of them eerily silent and either carrying heavy packs or their knife eared bastards. The sun was disappearing and she took hope in the fact that with this many rabbits, her father’s men would quickly find her once she was found missing. 

They travelled to a small cave, meeting with more knife ears, these armoured and armed and all of them with the symbol of two wolves with a tree between them, and three moons above. She felt her stomach drop as she recognized the heraldry. Fenvhenan. They were a secretive and hidden nation in the Frostbacks, formed at the last Exalted Council and had been mostly quiet, a merchant nation, but her father could often be heard ranting about their ‘Maker cursed ideology infecting the masses’. She tried screaming and struggling again, but her former servants did not even look at her, their gazes instead focused on the mirror that the armed knife ears had unveiled. 

Words she didn’t understand were whispered, and then she felt her eyes grow wide as the first of the knife ears… stepped through the glass. Rabbit after rabbit stepped into the mirror, and she realized with horror that they were dragging her towards the object. Terror clutched at her chest and she screamed, screamed and cried and struggled, fighting with every ounce of strength that she had. But it was useless. It felt like she was yanked through a waterfall, and then… they dropped her. She gasped and tried to stand, to run, but her limbs felt like lead. She could barely move, it felt like when she had fallen into the pond as a child in her formal gowns, how the fabric had clung to her and weighed her down so that she was trapped an arm’s length from air. The gardener had saved her, an older rabbit with the tips of his ears cut off for stealing from the larders. He wasn’t here, had died last winter. She only knew this, because her maid was his daughter. 

She felt tears on her face and slowly wiped them off and struggled to her feet. She swayed, trying to focus past the buzzing in her head, and wobbled towards the way she had come. She barely managed a step before two pairs of arms grabbed her and lifted her up. She didn’t remember much of the trip, couldn’t say if it lasted hours or days as she was dragged over the colourless path, lights flickering in the corners of her eyes and the buzzing in her head drowning out the knife ear’s quiet murmurs. 

Suddenly though, suddenly she was dragged through another waterful sensation, and then she was inhaling fresh, real air. She gasped and blinked as the knife ears holding her up shoved her forward. 

“Rochelle, only daughter of the Duke of Gasqueux.” She stumbled over the hem of her dress as they pushed her and she forced herself not to turn to glare at them. Instead she glared up at who they had been addressing. 

It was a massive creature with tar black skin and horns like a ram. It was wearing simple armour and was staring at her with pale eyes. It reached out and put it’s hand on her head before she could duck away and it’s eyes glowed golden for an instant before it hummed and stepped back. “Negative. Take her to the holding room.” 

A pair of the armoured elves stepped forward. “If you would follow us, miss.” 

“I will not!” She didn’t stomp her foot because she was twelve and she was almost a woman now, but she wanted to.

“Miss, it would be easier if you simply accompanied us.”

She turned and tried to run, run back to the horrid mirror if it would get her back home, but hands grabbed her arms and dragged her back before she even made it an inch. She shrieked and kicked and tried to get away, but all that accomplished was one of the knife ears touched her forehead with his finger and instantly every muscle in her body went limp. She couldn’t move.

The horned creature laughed quietly, “We’ll have to pay special attention to that one.” 

Her blood ran cold at his words. 

  
  
  
  


Rochelle was past being scared now. The holding room was a glorified prison, and afterwards she had been ‘escorted’ to a classroom filled with about half a dozen other girls ranging from girls of six summers to one of about fourteen summers. Rochelle cautiously sat next to a smaller girl and looked around. There were guards by the doors and a tall, dark rabbit with a sword at his side sitting at a desk at the front of the room. The girl was kicking her feet and humming under her breath. She leaned over and whispered to her.

“Where are you from?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore.” She said, terribly cheerful. “Nanny said she was taking me to a party, and all the servants came with us. The Ox King put his hand on my head and said I was ‘poztive’, so this is my new home.”

Rochelle was shocked. “Don’t you wish to return to your parents?”

The child shook her head. “No. Father is mean and mother is never home. Nanny is nice though, and says that I’m going to be a- a” Her nose scrunched up and then she shrugged. “I’m gonna get magic so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

The knife ear cleared his throat and stood up with an easy smile.

“Hello, ladies.” The rabbit had a soft accent that she did not recognize. “Welcome to Skyhold. You will be staying here for some time, so in order to make your stay easier, we will be giving you companions to help you learn the schedule and expectations of you. You will be attending classes for your education, and your companions will help you with your lessons until you catch up with the current students.”

‘Companions’. Rochelle scoffed inwardly. He meant guards. They were to be guarded so they couldn’t escape. But she’d figure something out. Mother had made sure she was taught what to do in a ‘foster’ situation, but she much preferred trying to get away rather than sit and wait for the proper marriage proposal or whatever was being negotiated for. She crossed her arms in a very unladylike manner and glared at the dark elf. 

The ‘companions’ turned out to be a girl rabbit, one for each of them, and she mimicked her mother’s haughty expression as best as she could remember. “I’m afraid I’ve had quite enough rabbit lately. I’ll make my own way.” 

The knife ear’s eyes glinted and he smiled sharply. “Very well. Not an elf will come near you.” 

With that, he gestured to the other ‘companions’ and they gathered up their charges and left her sitting alone in the room. She had not expected that to go so simply. She waited a few heartbeats before jumping from her seat and trying the door… it didn't budge. Strange, she hadn't heard a key turn. She gave up on the door and spun to study the windows. They all looked high up but if she dragged a bench then maybe she could reach them. 

The bench was heavy and made a loud noise as she pushed it. She stopped every few seconds to check if anyone would barge in. Finally it was in place. 

With a mental apology to her mother, she began shedding her under layers of petticoats, and tore them into long strips for a makeshift rope. 

She reached up and tried to grip the windowsill, only to feel a piece of paper. She scowled and snatched it down and unfolded it. It was a note, and read, “Lady Emma, I took the liberty of having every window your size sealed. Signed, your very irritated bodyguard.”

The door opened suddenly and she jumped, teetering and fell off of the bench onto her backside. “Murde.” She scrambled to her feet and raising her chin, face red but determined to look unaffected. There was a man in heavy plate armor at the door, his hair dark and his eyes hard as they passed over her, then at the window, then down to the fold creased note still clutched in her hand.

“Who are you?” He said in a thick Ferelden accent, scowling at her and she straightened her spine indignantly. 

“I am Rochelle of-”

“Ah” He scoffed, cutting her off. “One of the boy’s. Give me that.” He stepped forward and plucked the note from her hands and reached up to place it back on the windowsill. “That wasn’t for you.” 

With that, he left the room. Rochelle glared at the door wondering if she should try it again. He had said she was ‘one of the boy’s’. She bit her thumb in thought of what that would mean and didn't like what she came up with at all. Her father had been sure to paint the picture for her of what happened to women and girls who didn't do as they were expected to. She had already attracted the attention of the ‘Ox King’. 

She looked around the room again and felt like crying. She wanted to go home. She wanted to yell at her rabbit servant for getting her into this mess. She wanted to- Her stomach rumbled and she stomped her foot. Her throat hurt, and her wrists hurt, and her stomach hurt and now people were being vague and threatening and she… she was just t welve. 

Rochelle swiped at her eyes and straightened her shoulders. If the windows were sealed, she would try the door again. This time, the door opened easily, releasing her into a long, stone hallway with doo rs down the length of it. She hesitantly picked her way down the hallway, feeling very exposed. A rabbit hurried by and she froze, uncertain of what to do, but it just ignored her. Feeling a little bolder, she continued down the hallway until she reached an open room filled wall to wall with books and littered with desks and couches. There was a human girl sitting at one of the desks, reading, and Rochelle cautiously approached.

The girl smiled and looked up, speaking with a familiar Orlesian accent. “Hello. Do you need help?”

“I…” Rochelle didn’t know what to say. “I… was lost and wondering where the exit is.”

The girl smiled kindly and was about to answer when a pair of horns appeared over the back of a couch. A grey skinned oxboy narrowed its eyes at her and glanced at the human girl with a raised eyebrow.

The girl sighed. “Are you one of the noble children?”

Her silence must have been answer enough because it looked around with a frown. 

Again the girl spoke for him. “Where’s your companion? She’s supposed to be helping you.” 

“I sent her away.” Rochelle sniffed. “I’m tired of being surrounded by rabbits.”

Abruptly the pair closed off, the girl slamming her book shut and standing, and the oxboy standing up, up, up off of the couch. They turned and headed for another door, the oxboy touching the human’s elbow and tilting its head towards her. The girl turned to quietly speak over her shoulder. “We don’t use words like that around here.” 

She wandered the maze of the building for hours, always getting the same reactions. The elves ignored her, the humans were helpful until she slipped and called the elves rabbits, and then they ignored her. Her stomach was clenching painfully, but she hadn’t found anywhere with food, and the few people with food with them had taken it when they left. She found a corner to hide and curled up tightly. She tried not to cry, she did, but the tears came anyway.

She was still crying as quietly as she could make herself be when a shadow crossed the entrance to her hiding place. She scrambled back and pressed her back against the cold stone as she looked up to see the Ox King staring at her. It cocked its head and rumbled quietly in its deep voice.

“What’s wrong.” 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” She felt herself begin to shout and glared at him. “I was kidnapped! And now I’m hungry and I want to go home!”

The creature hummed deep in its chest and lowered itself to sit on the floor in front of her. Secretly, she was glad he wasn’t quite so tall now. “Your companion should have taken you to the dining hall already.”

“I don’t want another rabbit! I don’t want help! I don’t want to see another knife ear ever again!” She scrambled to her feet and stomped her foot.

The Ox King blinked at her placidly and didn’t move. “You won’t be able to survive long here without being polite to the elves.” 

She paled at the quiet threat and swallowed. “Then send me home. I’m sure my father will be willing to negotiate with you.”

“No. Let me ask you something. How many elves brought you here?”

She shuddered and glared at him. “All of them, I think.”

He nodded slowly. “So, the elves that grow the food? The elves that carry the food to the house? The elves that cook it? That serve it? The elves that clean, and care for the house, and the children? The elves that dress you, and carry messages? They’re all gone from your manor?”

She felt her stomach sink at that. It would take days, weeks even to replace the staff. The search parties would be delayed, the negotiation messages would be halted. She was stuck here for a long time. 

“It’s the same here, Little one. You can’t touch anything that an elf didn’t. These stones were actually placed by elves. The elves here are equal to humans. If you call them names, they can ignore you if they want, or yell at you. If you insult them, they don’t have to serve you.”

She sniffled and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. What would her mother do? “I’ll…. I’ll find the human servants. They’ll know how to properly act.” 

“The human servants won’t like that you keep insulting their friends and family.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll find there aren't too many humans around here.” 

Rochelle stared at her hands, did they really treat rabbits just like people? Father was adamant that the elves knew their place, and had whipped her once for calling one of the maids her friend when she was six… The maid had been gone by morning. Rochelle winced as her stomach let out another loud grumble. 

The Ox King gave her a considering look and stood up. “Come on, I’ll lead you to the kitchens. Then I have work to do.” 

He started to walk away without once looking back at her to see if she followed. She hurried to her feet and ran after him, having to take three steps for his every one. She tried to observe her surroundings, but there were too many turns and she had to focus too much on keeping up. The most she could see was that everyone parted ways for the Ox King, some of them saluting, and others bowing. 

They walked, well he walked, she had to do an odd walk jog in order to keep up, for a fair distance before he stopped in front of a large oak door. Rochelle could smell fresh bread and some kinds of roasts.

“Here you are.” With that, he turned and began walking away, only to be tackled by the girl she had met in the room with books. “Papa! You were supposed to join us for dinner!”

“Sorry, Danni Danger, I had work. I’ll be there for family night though. Where’s Ash and the little ones?”

Rochelle stared as the pair walked away. Papa? What kind of place was this? She rubbed her arms, unsure if she could just walk in… or knock? ‘If you call them names they can ignore you.’ That's what he said. ‘They are equal to humans.’ Her mother insisted ‘rabbit’ was better than ‘knife ear’ but so far everyone she had encountered seemed to take it the same.

The door suddenly flung open and a rab- an elf carrying a large tray of food almost tripped over her. They frowned down at her and yelled back. “Ilaan, one of yours, I think!” And hurried off with the tray. 

A second later another… elf poked her head out and scowled at her. “Password?”

Rochelle blinked at the stern looking ra- elf. “Uh.”

“I don’t have all day, girl.”

“I… don’t know? The Ox King just left me here.” She bristled at being called ‘girl’ by a- an elf, but forced a polite smile onto her face. She really was hungry. 

“Ox King.” The elf sighed and rolled her eyes. “One of those then. Where’s your companion?”

Polite. Pretend she’s human. “I’m… I’m afraid I was a bit rude and sent her away. But I’m… very hungry and... Would like some food… Please?” 

The elf, Ilaan, raised an eyebrow at her. “Is it that hard to have manners, girl?”

She looked down at the harsh voice but quickly raised her chin. ‘Never look down.’ Her mother always said. “I am trying.” 

Ilaan nodded. “I can see. Come on, don’t get in the way.” She ducked back through the door and Rochelle had to hurry to get through before it closed. She didn’t trust the door to suddenly not open for her. The kitchens were chaotic, steam and hurrying servants and above it all, Ilaan bellowing out orders and advice as she scooped foods from various dishes onto a plate. The elf pushed the plate into her hands and then pushed her towards a corner. “Stay out of the way.” 

Rochelle was just about to bite into the meat pie when a mop of red hair darted under one of the tables holding fresh tarts. Ilaan looked and smirked before pretending not to see as a small hand reached up and began patting along the edge of the table. Ilaan casually nudged a platter closer to the edge and the hand managed to grab a pair of them and then disappeared under the table. A second later, the red headed child poked their head out from under the table and started to sneak off, only to freeze when they saw her. 

“How’d you get in here? There’s no password today.” The girl had wide gray-blue eyes and her front teeth were missing. Her hair was a wild mess of red, so Rochelle couldn’t see if she was human or a- an elf. Tiny as she was, she had no idea of her age.

“I-” she started to answer but a loud voice cut her off.

“Isy?”

The girl jumped at Ilaan’s voice and broke one of the tarts in half, shoving a half into her hand before dashing away. “Gotta go! Things to do, tarts to eat!”

Rochelle caught a glimpse of pointed ears among the mess of hair and blinked at the unusual act. Most ra- elves were far too timid to dare share with humans. She glanced up as Ilaan’s shadow fell over her, the r- woman’s hands on her hips. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” She held up the broken tart. She had often had her dinner taken away for stealing desserts and didn’t want to lose her food. Ilaan waved it off with a frown. 

“Keep it. You can grab a whole one if you take your plate to the sink when you’re done.” She hesitated before leaning down to whisper. “That’s one of the dread wolf’s children. Be wary of him catching your scent.” 

Rochelle shuddered at the warning. She had heard so many threats today that she felt like being sick. She quietly finished eating and took the plate to the washing area before pocketing a tart and leaving the kitchens. Outside the room of bustle and noise, she found herself turned around. She wasn’t in the same room she had come from. Or was she? Where was she supposed to sleep? 

She wander ed until her feet hurt. The elves still ignored her, the few humans she had found before seemed to have disappeared. She tried every door and window she came across, avoiding the ones with scraps of paper tucked in the sill or frame. Some doors would open, others would not, and she could not figure out the pattern to them. She felt like she was going in circles though, endless circles of endless stone halls, and not a way out of them. 

The windows were locked. The doors only opened when they wanted to. The guards watched her with disinterest. She couldn’t get out. And she was tired. And sore. And she didn’t know the way back to the kitchens, so she would get hungry again. And she was angry and scared. She found a corner protected by curtains and ducked into it, curling up in the dusty nook and hugging herself tightly. Maker help her, she wanted to go home.

She must have fallen asleep, because a distant howling startled her out of her huddled position and it was darker than before. The lights had been dimmed and the halls were eerily quiet. She was thirsty too. 

And now her neck hurt.

That one little fact decided things for her. She needed that companion. Someone to show her around, help her figure out the layout of this massive place. Figure out the exits and where to find food. But how would she get one back? She couldn’t just go demand one, elves were treated like humans here. 

She chewed on her thumb and thought it over. If she had insulted a person, what would mother tell her to do? Not a servant, but maybe… maybe a knight. What would mother say if she insulted a knight? She would have to find the knight and the knight’s lord and apologize to both. So she’d have to find the leader of the elves. The ox king? No… She winced as she accidentally tore some skin from around her thumb nail. No, the ox king was the ruler of Fenvhenan, but she knew there was someone else. Her father had often lamented ‘the damned wolf stealing the rabbits’. Maybe the dread wolf that Ilaan had mentioned?

It was a place to start anyway. She nibbled on the cold tart from her pocket as she started wandering the halls again, testing each door to see where they would take her. She wandered up and down stairs, through corridors and rooms, out a balcony that was completely fenced in, through a large hall with massive, barred doors, and into a round room with paintings on the walls.

There was a man there, facing one of the paintings with his hands clasped behind his back. He had long, braided hair cut on the sides to show off his pointed ears, twin swords on his hips, and a wolf fur draped around his shoulders. He chuckled and spoke in a language she had never heard before, his tone playful as he turned towards her with a small smile that vanished the second his grey eyes landed on her. He straightened and his hands moved to rest on the hilts of his swords, his eyes glinting coldly as he looked her over.

“What are you doing here? Where is your companion?” 

“I- Are you the Lord Dread Wolf?” She hazarded a guess. He definitely looked like he could be in charge. 

“Yes.” The word was clipped and impatient. 

“I…” She scrambled for the memory of the one time she had had to give a formal apology for accidentally throwing up on a knights armor. She dropped into a curtsey. “I grieve to inform you that I have insulted a member of your household and I ask for your forgiveness.” 

He regarded her for a long moment and she struggled to stay in the curtsey and not run. “You’re being shunned.”

“Yes, ser.” Shunned sounded about right. She kept her eyes down and tried not to let her legs shake from holding the curtsey so long.

“Stand up.” 

She looked up in time to see him flick his hand and a slight shimmering light fly off into the air. 

“Stay here, he’ll will come for you. And next time, go straight to Amelan. You’re his problem.” 

“Amelan? I- I don’t know who that is, ser. I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “Your kind call him the Ox King.” With that, he turned and stalked away. 

Rochelle didn’t even have time to be offended at the ra- elf saying ‘her kind’ before the Ox King himself rushed into the room, his face set in a worried scowl. “Solas?”

His pale eyes landed on her and his scowl deepened. “Tell me you didn’t offend the Dread Wolf your first day here.”

“No.” She glared at him. “I apologized for calling his people rabbits, as a matter of fact.”

His eyebrows raised. “Huh. Good job. Why did he call me though?”

“I…” Rochelle raised her chin. “I want my companion back.”

“Okay.” The ox man turned to walk away. “I’ll send someone for you.” 

He obviously wanted her to stay here, but a streak of defiance reared up and she marched off after him. He gave her an irritated glance. “What are you doing?”

“Lord Dread Wolf said that I am your problem. So I am making myself your problem.” She felt an internal cringe of fear, but the man just rolled his eyes. 

“Fair enough.” 

Fair enough? She frowned up at his back as she half ran after him. She was deliberately trying to annoy him. Even father would have locked her in her room for a day for that. 


	6. Chapter 6

She frowned at the elf girl. “So, you’re my guard?”

“Companion. The guards wear armor. I’m just a guide of sorts. I help you find your way around, learn our customs, and give you someone to go to for help when you’re scared or confused.” The elf smiled brightly. “If you have any questions, I’m here to answer as best as I can.”

Rochelle pursed her lips doubtfully but didn’t voice any of her thoughts. She wasn’t going to lose her help so quickly. “What are the rules I must follow? And the consequences if I fail to do so?”

The elf girl’s smile didn’t waver a fraction. “The rules are mostly common sense, don’t steal, don’t fight, don’t be rude. The doors tell you where you’re allowed to go, so for the most part you can’t really get into places you’re not supposed to be. Just don’t go into the Lord Amelan and the Lord Dread Wolf’s rooms. As for consequences, Amelan believes in natural consequences. If you’re rude, people will avoid and ignore you, if you steal, more doors will be locked. If you attack someone, you will be kept by yourself until it is believed you are safe to allow near others. Amelan is very strict about grabbing an elf’s ears or qunari's horns, that is counted as an attack.”

Rochelle blinked. That was… very mild. “And if I fail my lessons?” Father would cane her hand when her marks slipped. She found it hard to believe that her kidnappers would be more lenient than her own family.

“You will be assigned a personal tutor to help you find where you are struggling and help you figure out what needs to be learned, or you can move to a previous level to catch up.” 

Rochelle narrowed her eyes. “And if I decide I don’t want to have any lessons?”

The girl shrugged. “Then you obviously need the time to rest and recover and will be offered quiet spaces and items for entertainment until you desire to resume your lessons.”

That… was unbelievable. The elf seemed to know what she was thinking because her eyes crinkled into a wider smile. “There will be no canings, you will not be denied food, though if you are rude you might have to fetch it yourself, and you are allowed to wander the castle at will depending on your current allowances. I’m not here to keep you in line, I’m here to help, and when you don’t need me anymore, I will be assigned to someone else.”

It sounded like a tas de merde, but she would see. “Would you please show me the way to my room?”

“Of course!” The elf girl motioned for her to follow and began walking down the hallway, pointing to different doors and chattering about what was behind them. Rochelle tried to memorize them, but there were just so many. The girl came to a halt in front of a wooden door and gestured to it. “This is your room!”

Rochelle opened the door and poked her head inside, grimacing at the bare stone walls. She stepped in and turned around to look at the gray walls, the simple wooden bed, the plain wardrobe and desk, and a massive bookshelf that took up one wall. There was a window with no curtains, and a magical brazier. Another door led to a simple washroom. She looked at the elf girl who had not crossed the threshold into her room. 

“It’s…” She struggled for a polite response. “Nice?”

The elf laughed. “It’s horrid, I know. But on the desk is paper and pens, and if you write down what colors you want, I’ll find paints and fabrics and we can change it to suit your needs. If you want to make it easier to know which door is yours, you can paint the outside of your door as well, but I must ask you not to paint in the hallway.”

She could choose her own room decor? Surely not. “What if I want to paint the floor and ceiling?”

“If you can find another guest willing to share a room with you for a few nights, we can have the floor tiled to the color of your choice.” The elf didn’t even seem phased.

“That must cost a lot.”

“Not really. We have our own artisans and craftsmen so most of the materials are made right here. The few more exotic colors and materials are much cheaper here in Skyhold due to our trade network. Do you want to change the floor?”

She didn’t have anyone to room with. She didn’t know anyone. “I… not yet. I’ll… need to think on my choice.”

The elf gave her a knowing look but smiled. “Okay. Just leave a note on the door when you decide, I’ll be checking the door for notes daily.” 

“You’re not staying here?” Rochelle’s maid had slept in a little closet in her room in case she was needed during the night. 

“Oh, no. I’m not going to be stepping foot into your room without permission.” The elf laughed. “I’ll be coming by each morning to take you where you want to go. It’s late, so do you want me to wake you for the communal breakfast or will you want to sleep late and go to the kitchen to get a private breakfast?”

Rochelle thought over it carefully. She needed to learn the schedule of the place as well as the layout if she was going to find a way to escape. “I want to be woken for the communal breakfast.” She noticed the elf’s eyebrow twitch upward and hastily added. “Please.” 

The elf nodded. “Very well! The levers in the washroom bring water into the tub for bathing, left is hot and right is cold. The brazier can be turned on and off by touching the rune on the side, and the lights can be turned on and off by moving this lever there.” She pointed at a little lever on the wall. There are some basic clothes in the wardrobe, if you need more we can make an appointment with the valley tailors tomorrow. Good night.”

With that she turned and left, leaving Rochelle to close the door and look around the barren room. She shoved the desk chair to the window and stood on it to look out, then swallowed when she saw it seemed like a straight drop into a massive valley. There would be no climbing out of this window. She hesitantly tested the door to her room, but it opened easily. She wasn’t locked in. She was tired though, and postponed the bath in favor of changing into a much too large nightgown and curling up under the plain cotton quilts. She left the lights on, unwilling to spend the night in darkness. 

A rapid knock jolted her from her slumber and she flailed, the blanket wrapping around her limbs and sending her tumbling to the floor. She blinked in confusion and slowly set about freeing herself from the fabric. The knock sounded again and she glared at the door before remembering that she had asked for the companion to wake her. 

The communal breakfast was… noisy and common. Her companion took a tray from a stack on a table, put an empty plate and cup on it, and led her through a line to a long table piled with food where an elf was serving food onto plates held out to them. Rochelle tried to act as the others in the line, hoping that her compliance with the strange customs would help her disappear from notice. 

She had attracted the Ox King’s eye twice now, and she did not want to stand out anymore than she already had. The night before she attributed her sudden streak of defiance to the… ‘newness’ of the situation she was in. She followed her companion to a table filled with chattering girls of varying ages and they sat near the end to eat the food they had fetched themselves. She listened to them chatter, some of them about the colors they were choosing for their rooms, others of their studies, the younger ones of riding lessons and animals they were allowed to keep and care for. Were none of them worried? They had been abducted from their homes… yet they chatted as if they were on some grand vacation.

A hush fell over the table as she picked at her food and she lifted her head, curious at the sudden silence. All eyes were trained towards the front of the hall, where three thrones stood side by side. A door had opened and more children were filing from it. The human girl and oxboy she had run into yesterday, three elf children, and a smaller, younger oxboy. Two of the elf children looked like the red haired girl from the kitchen, their hair braided back so their ears were visible. 

The Dread Wolf exited as well, crossing the room to another door at the other side of the stage and left the room. The imposing figure of the Ox King… Amelan, exited last. His eyes scanned over the hall as if taking inventory before he stepped up onto the stage and began to speak, his voice projecting oddly through the room. 

It was a ‘welcome’ speech of some kind, and while Rochelle tried to pay attention, she found herself distracted by the redheaded elf girls sneaking back out of a doorway with the larger oxboy following them. They approached the throne behind the Ox King, who paused, tilting his head slightly before continuing his speech with a smile. 

The ox boy opened a book up and began moving his hand, and the girls silently began casting magic over one of the thrones, stifling giggles with their hand. The ox boy shut the book and the three ran off. Rochelle thought it odd… no one said anything. Several guards were visibly smirking, and several of the girls were giggling, but no one pointed them out. Even the Ox King was smiling softly, though he had not turned to look back at them. 

The Ox King was done speaking and she had missed most of what he had said. Most of the girls around here waved goodbye to him as he left the room… She barely had time to ponder the strange behavior before her companion was rushing her off to ‘lessons’.

It was a large room in a tower, filled with rows of little desks, and another elf was standing in front of a slateboard, writing mathematics across it. She sat gingerly by one of the windows and her companion wished her a good lesson and said she would return afterwards. Rochelle watched as the other children her age, dwarves, elves, and oxchildren as well as humans, began filing in and sitting, startling when a large shadow fell over her. She looked up to see the ox boy from the hall wrinkling his nose at her with a glance from the window, back to the desk she was sitting in. He shrugged, then sat in the desk next to her.

“Um. Hello.” Polite. He was obviously important if he had been with The Dread Wolf and the Ox King.

He looked surprised, then grinned, the expression pulled crooked by the scar across his neck and face. He moved his hands, then pulled out a paper and wrote on it, turning it to show it to her when he was finished. ‘Hello. I am Ash, I can’t speak out loud. What is your name?’ 


	7. Chapter 7

He could write, but not speak. He had written how it had happened, obviously a fabricated tale. Saving his pregnant mother from assassins was a bit far fetched, but it was entertaining. The way he moved his hands was ‘sign language’ and he offered to teach it to her since most of the people here knew it. It was apparently used to communicate across rooms and to those who could not speak or hear. She tentatively agreed, torn between staying unnoticed and wanting to be able to communicate with her potential ally without paper.

Because that was what he was. He was friendly, and important, and seemed content to help her with her lessons and show her around. Lessons had been… advanced. She could barely keep up, the problems making her head spin.  The teacher had given her a large test and she found herself… lost. They expected them to know this? S he had thought she had the best education tutors could offer, but Ash apparently knew three languages, could do advanced mathematics, had a solid grasp of magical theory, could write out long passages of literature from memory… And he claimed he was not as smart as his sisters.

He was an ox man, and father said that ox men were savage brutes who used instinct more than rational thought. Her head was aching by the time she finished, and she felt… panic when the teacher asked her to remain behind. She was about to be caned for certain. She knew she had done poorly. 

“Miss Rochelle, you marked very low on your placement test. I think it would be best to move you to a lower class.” 

She couldn’t- She couldn’t be in a lower class than an ox boy, even one as educated as Ash. Her pride would not allow it. She was a noble. “Give me materials and I will study on my own time.” At the teacher’s raised eyebrows she hastily added. “Please, Ser. I will study, I will do better.” 

He had looked doubtful, but had given her a stack of books heavy enough to make her arms hurt, and had said she could test again in a month. Ash had stepped in and taken them from her as soon as she had left the classroom, he had been waiting for her for some reason.

He had moved one of his hands to her companion, who had been waiting outside, and the elf smiled. “He has offered to show you around today. Is that agreeable to you?” 

Rochelle’s mind whirled with the opportunity presented… the oxboy was obviously important enough to stand by the thrones and walk with the Dread Wolf’s children, and he knew his way around. Befriending him seemed… logical. A plan to possibly escape… she nodded and smiled. “Yes, please.”

Her companion had left, and Ash had tucked the heavy books under one arm as if they weighed nothing to him, and handed her a piece of paper with the alphabet written out on it. 

He tapped the first letter and she spoke it questioningly. “A?”

He made a gesture with his hand, a fist with the thumb to the side, then tapped the letter.  **A** . Again the gesture. Oh! He had hand signals for the letters! She was fascinated and tried her best to mimic his gestures exactly as they walked, only realizing that they had been walking a while when a door opened and sunlight blinded her. She blinked, shocked at being outside the main hall doors, and Ash had let out a silent, airy laugh at her.

He slowly signed the letters. “ **T-R-E-E-T-I-M-E** ”

“Tree time?” Everything here was so confusing.

He nodded and started down the stairs, and she followed, looking around frantically, trying to memorize the layout of the courtyard and the gates and- There was a large white tree in the middle of the courtyard, the air bending oddly around it and strange white-pink flowers growing at its base. Ash led her directly to it and pressed his hand, and then his forehead to the white tree. He stepped back and gestured between her and the tree. 

She looked at him in confusion. “You want me to...?” 

He nodded, then repeated the motion, his hand, then his forehead to the tree. She sighed, but complied. She needed an ally. Needed his knowledge and friendship. She could touch a tree to gain that. The tree felt smooth and… weirdly warm beneath her hand, and when she carefully touched her forehead to it, she felt a rush of goosebumps down her spine. She shuddered and stepped back, and Ash grinned brightly at her, obviously pleased. 

“What is it?” She had never seen a tree like it before.

He shrugged and sat down among the flowers and wrote on his paper. “My papa planted it for my babae. It’s magic. Special. It helps you breathe up here.” 

Rochelle hesitated before carefully sitting down as well, hoping she would not be scolded should the ground leave stains on her dress, but… ally, she needed an ally. She would risk it. “What is a babae?”

He brightened and held up four fingers, then wrote, making a gesture after each word. “Papa. Babae. Mama. Mamae. I have four parents. Five if you count Bull, but he doesn’t like to think about it.” 

She blinked. Four-five parents?! She could barely wrap her mind around it… who were these people?

He let out that silent, airy laugh again, his sharp teeth flashing in the sunlight before he touched his forehead and then wrote. “I know, weird, but my whole family is like that. You need help with the math? I’m good at math.” 

She glanced around the courtyard. No one was paying them any mind, a glance but nothing more. “Al-alright.” She tried to focus on the mathematics as well as study her surroundings… there had to be a way… The oxboy was patient with her but seemed to notice the way her attention wandered.

“Let’s go back inside, you can eat with my family for lunch if you want. Take a break, meet my siblings.” He wrote the words, then moved his hands, and she could only guess he was trying to familiarize her with the gestures. 

It was a good sign he was putting the effort into teaching her his language… and introducing him to his family… Her head hurt from all the information pouring in and the goosebumps down her spine hadn’t gone away and the gate was  _ so close _ but it was closed and- “Yes. Please.” 

He closed the books and tucked them under his arm again, brushing a hand against the trunk of the odd white tree before he began leading her back inside. She balked when she realized what door he was leading her to, the one that the Dread Wolf and the Ox King had come out of, but he just gave her an easy smile and opened it for her, tilting his horns to usher her in.

She took a deep breath and compiled, not wanting a scene in the main hall in front of everyone. He led her up some stairs and she froze when she saw the table and chairs, and sitting at them… the Ox King and the Dread Wolf, staring at her sharply. The dark haired man in armor was sitting there as well, as well as four elf children, the human girl she had seen with Ash yesterday, the smaller ox boy, and a dark haired woman with a scar across one cheek. 

“Ash?” The Ox King rumbled and Rochelle shrank back from his searching eyes, bumping into Ash’s broad ches t. “When I said to find someone…” 

Ash made several gestures with his chin  jutting defiantly, and the eldest human girl shook her head with an eye roll. “You are impossible, little brother. Come eat, we’re having pizza.”

Ash touched her elbow and moved past her, pulling a chair out from the table for her. He had been told to find someone? And he had brought her? She sat nervously and the dark haired man squinted at her and scowled. “You’re the girl who tried to go out the window yesterday.” 

The Ox King laughed and reached out to ruffle Ash’s hair. “Course you found her, kid. She also had to be shunned, she was kicking and biting so badly when they brought her in.”

Ash raised his eyebrows at her and grinned, his teeth sharp and menacing despite the friendly gesture and he signed something to them. 

One of the red head girls piped up, food in one cheek. “No fair! I want to be her friend too! I gave her a pie! She’s pretty!”

“Iselan, finish the food in your before you speak, please.” The Dread Wolf sighed before he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Why must all of you find the most difficult thing in all of Skyhold to claim?”

Claim?!

“Because they take after their Babae, perhaps?” The dark haired woman spoke in a teasing tone as she handed the smaller oxboy a slice of some sort of flatbread with sauce and melted cheese. 

“Or their Mama.” The Dread Wolf said with a slight quirk of his mouth. “She did claim the most difficult thing in Fenvhenan.” 

Claim?

The smaller oxboy giggled and snagged the slice before slinging it at the little elf boy next to him, splashing sauce onto his face. The lady with the scar made a soft noise of irritation and lifted the oxboy into her lap. “You can’t only eat meat, little ant.” 

“Introduce us, will you?” The dark haired man said with a scowl as he handed a napkin to the elf boy.

Rochelle felt her stomach clench in dread. Claim?

Ash made some gestures and the human girl spoke up. “We are Ash’s family. Amelan is our papa, Fen’Harel is our babae, this is our mama, Cassandra, our Babala, Loghain, I am Danielle, you met my brother Ash, these two terrors-” She pointed at the red headed girls, “Are our sisters Iselan and Emmaera, the quiet one is our brother Gaelathe, and the youngest is our brother Anthony. The one with sauce in their eyebrows is the twins’ milk brother, Leggy.” 

Maker help her, Ash was the Ox King’s heir. She felt the blood drain from her face. She was a foster… oh Maker… she was at their table.

“I’m Isy!” The one dubbed Iselan spoke up with a grin, seemingly ignorant of her growing panic, then elbowed Emmaera, who shot her twin a glare. “She’s Emy.”

They were all looking at her expectantly and she realized she had to introduce herself, had to give them her name because Ash had brought her here but he could not speak but he had ‘claimed’ her and he was the Ox king’s heir and the Ox King had told him to find someone and- she swallowed hard. “I- I am Rochelle de Gasqueux.”

“We don’t bite.” the Lady Cassandra said gently. The Dread Wolf and the Ox King both bared their teeth at the woman and she laughed and amended. “Much.”

Oh Maker! She was only a year away from… no. She pushed away from the table in her panic, the chair toppling behind her and she ran… she ran.

  
  
  


Ash felt terrible. He had been trying to be nice, to make a friend,  papa had told him to try find someone not family to be friends with, but he had just ended up terrifying her. He knew his  family was weird and that Papa and Babae tended to scare humans, and she was a foster, so she was anxious, but he had hoped… she was so fiery, stubborn, and brave that he had hoped she wouldn’t… mind. She had even stood up to the teacher and demanded she stay in his class.

But she had gotten pale and ran and Babae had rolled his eyes with mutterings of ‘difficult’ and Papa had a sad twist to his mouth when he looked at him. Ash didn’t know what to do until Danielle hit him in the face with some ice. “Well, go after her and see if she’s okay, oh brilliant brother of mine!”

He grabbed his notebook and charcoal from the stack of books she left and took off after her. She had a bit of a head start, but he had longer legs and the guards helpfully pointed in the direction she had gone. He found her in one of the curtained corners the twins liked to hide in, curled in a ball with her arms over her head, gasping and crying. She flinched when he pulled the curtain back and he held up his hand in an ‘it’s okay’ way as he slowly moved to crouch in front of her so he didn't loom. Papa said humans got scared of the horns. 

She stilled and he could see she was trying to be brave even though she was still crying and almost hyperventilating.

He slowly, careful not to move too suddenly and startle her, like he did with the drasolisks, pulled out his notebook and wrote. “Are you alright?”

She sniffled, wiping at her eyes before shaking her head. “No… I- I’m not home… I- not alright.”

He circled his fist over his chest with an apologetic wince, then wrote again. “Papa won’t hurt you. Babae either.” He shoved his disappointment aside. “Sorry for surprising you with them, I thought you knew who my family was.” He made a wry face and tried to joke. “Thought you were being too nice to me.” 

She looked at his words on the paper through wet eyes before she looked up at him in confusion. “Ni-nice to y-you?”

Ash gestured to his horns, to his scar, to the dagger on his hip, and then back towards his family before writing. “People think I’m scary for some reason. Don’t want to talk to me. But you talked. Nice.” 

Guilt flashed in her eyes before she looked away. “You- you were nice to me… no one would speak to me… shunned… because I was scared.”

“60% of the population of Fenvhenan is elvhen. A lot of the noble kids get shunned until they learn to stop being rude to them. You apologized the first night, it’s the fastest anyone got the hint.” He shrugged. “I think you’re brave. And smart.” 

She looked down at her hands and twisted them nervously. “Tha-that’s why you…. claimed me?”

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug before writing. “You seem pretty awesome so far. Could be a great friend.” 

She swallowed, looking at her hands for a few minutes before looking up at him. “Are they angry with me?”

He huffed and shook his head before turning the page of his notebook for space to write. “They’re used to people running from them. Not angry at all. Worried if you’re alright.” He smiled at her, hoping it came across as impish as Mama claimed. “Want to go back and shock them? They are hilarious when surprised.”

She looked at her hands again before straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “Very well.” 

He grinned and offered a hand to help her up… she only hesitated a second before she took it. She was brave.


	8. Chapter 8

Rochelle had a headache. Again. The lessons were so  _ hard _ . She was trying, but there was so much she had to catch up on and she was trying to learn Ash’s language as well, and the twins kept popping up with their milk brother and babbling in  _ another  _ language before giving her pies or something and Ash kept taking her to the private meals with the Dread Wolf and the Ox King and the tree they studied under felt weird and… she had a headache.

It had been satisfying at first… especially the looks on Amelan and the Dread Wolf’s faces when she had returned with Ash, and sat quietly and calmly back down at the table. Amelan’s mouth had actually fallen open for a bit before he said something in another language that had Lady Cassandra rolling her eyes and the Dread Wolf blinking before shaking his head. The elf boy, Gaelathe? He had slid a plate of the flat bread towards her with a quiet phrase in… was that Tevene? Danielle elbowed him and he blinked and repeated it in Common. “I saved you some food.” 

No one raised an eyebrow at her after that. She was apparently the ‘claimed’ of Ash. But as she studied, and secretly planned her escape, she hoped that father would not… accept that, but to link himself to the heir of Fenvhenan through her… she did not think he would pass the opportunity, even if it meant he’d have to speak to mother to produce another heir that could carry on the line.

She was trying to puzzle out one of the passages of the ‘science’ book, lacking the background of some of the phrases, when Gaelathe stopped by her corner of the garden, his arms full of books. “Aneth ara. I brought you my old school books.” He said quietly. “You can hide them in your room so no-one sees them.” 

She frowned at the strange elf child, straightening her shoulders in habitual indignation. “Why would I-?”

“Peace.” He smiled. “I know you are smart. But you have not been taught the same things that we have. I am offering you my books, privately, so you can catch up before you get held back in classes.” 

“Why?” She eyed the strange boy suspiciously. What did he want from her?

He set the books beside her. “My brother is fond of you. He tries to help, but he does not want to risk offending you. However, I know you do not think of me as a friend, so your offense will not matter to me.” 

She looked down at the books in confusion. Why would it matter if Ash was ‘fond’ of her? Political matches were not based on fondness. Well… unless one was the heir of a reclusive nation who could pick and choose. “I… thank you?” 

He inclined his head, like the Dread Wolf did, and turned to go and she felt… confused and… terrible that he was helping her even though they weren’t friends or allies or- “Wait.”

He paused and looked at her with large, solemn eyes and she hesitated. He smiled. “You do not have to pretend to like me for his sake. I am… odd. I know.” 

“Why?” She didn’t know exactly what she was asking but the question was constantly running through her head and it was the first thing from her mouth.

He shrugged. “I was cut from my mother’s stomach and snatched from dragon’s fire and carried through the snow by a prophet who healed the sky. I have the right to be odd.” He smiled sadly before looking down at something on his wrist. “Don’t run.” 

She froze at the ominous words and raised her chin, ready to deny her planning, but he was already walking away. She felt panic in her chest. Had she been so easy to read? No, he couldn’t know. He really was odd. Unsettling. And his story sounded somehow even more unbelievable than Ash’s story of how he lost his voice. 

She stared after him until he had left the gardens, then gathered up the books he had left her and hurried towards her room. She would make use of his ‘help’, even if the Dread Wolf’s son was unsettling. There was a note on her bedroom door, a reminder from her companion that she had yet to request anything from her room. Perhaps they had noted she was not ‘settling in’. 

There was just so much to keep track of. 

Perhaps… Perhaps she needed to make friends as Amelan kept asking her. He seemed disappointed when she said she kept mostly to herself, so… She took the cookies that Ash has brought her before lessons and set off to find the Twins. They were elves and girls, and young enough to not be as skilled at the Game as she. They were fairly easy to find, hiding in one of the corners over a pile of books, their milk brother sprawled on his back with a picture book held over his face.

They both straightened and grinned when they saw her, then frowned. “Where’s Ash?” Iselan asked, by far the more talkative of the two.

“He said he was ‘running with the wolves’ this afternoon, whatever that means.” She gave them a hopefully friendly smile. “But I have a bit of a problem I was hoping you could help me with.”

Emmaera narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, and Iselan glanced at her. “We demand payment up front for any revenge pranks.”

Rochelle blinked, then tucked that interesting information away for later use. “Oh. No, I was just going to ask you to help me pick colors for my room. I can’t decide.” 

Emmaera squinted at her but shared a look with Iselan. Their milk brother whispered in their language and sighed.

“I… have cookies?” She held up the bag uncertainly. 

Abruptly the twins broke into gap toothed smiles and spoke at the same time. “Pink.” “Orange.” 

Rochelle hid a wince, she hated pink. But if she planned well enough, she would not have to endure whatever colors the twins agreed on for long. “Let’s go look at my room and draw what you two think it should look like. I have a set of colors.” 

  
  
  
  


Rochelle had disappeared after supper, her face oddly guilty, and after a minute of indecision, he had followed her. He found her on top of one of the walls, trying to stab a barrel with a kitchen knife. It… was laughably terrible. He leaned against the parapets and watched in amusement until she hit the barrel with her wrist at a bad angle and the knife flew from her grip, spinning across the stone towards him.

“Merde!” She swore, then noticed him, the blood draining from her face. “Ash! I…” She stepped back, looking oddly terrified. “Please don’t tell… I- I only-“

He picked up the knife from the ground and tsked at the blunted tip. Ilaan would pitch a fit over this. He set it aside and pulled his own dagger and Rochelle stepped back again, her eyes wide. He turned the blade over so the hilt was facing her and held it out. 

She stared at it before tilting her head at him in confusion. “You- you’re not mad?”

He huffed and raised an eyebrow at the kitchen knife, but shook his head. Why hadn’t she just gone to the training yards? She must feel awkward about not knowing. She was so proud and being behind in lessons upset her so, it made sense she would feel embarrassed about not knowing how to fight. He stepped forward and took her hand, arranging her fingers around his blade correctly. He stepped back, then moved her arm, and then nudged her feet with his foot. The whole while she stared at him in utter bafflement. 

He stepped back and studied her form, then nodded in satisfaction before moving beside her and mirroring her stance. Slowly, he moved through the first drill Zevran had taught him, a simple slash, keeping each movement clear and slow enough to follow. 

After a moment she mirrored him, slowly, and awkwardly, and he carefully nudged her elbow to loosen, her foot to a more balanced position. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she repeated the drill over and over until she could do it without him having to correct her, then she moved on to another. Once she could do both correctly, he grinned at her, then dropped down and began doing pushups. 

“What?” She blinked, cocking her head slightly to the side.

He rolled his eyes, and moved to his knees to flex his arm, poking the muscle with the finger of his other hand, then mimicking punching someone. She needed to get stronger if she wanted to fight.

She looked around nervously before copying him as best as she could… it was almost laughable but he kept his face encouraging. Her arms shook after only a few, but she bared her teeth in a grimace and did one more and he clapped in approval, earning a shy smile. After that he taught her the exercises he did every day and her face was red and sweaty by the end of them. She swore and collapsed against the wall. “Merde, this is hard!”

He laughed and pulled out his notebook. “Fun though, right?”

She laughed and he froze at the sound… it was the first time she’d actually laughed. He grinned happily and wrote again. “You’re gonna be kick ass, I can tell.” 

“I can barely hold myself up with my arms.” She grumbled, but she was still flushed and smiling. When was the last time she had actually exercised? They studied together outside but… she never did anything physical. Papa said the body needed to move for the head to be happy.

He shrugged and scrawled out an offer. “You want to join me in my training? It’s fun. Hard sometimes, but fun. Makes your muscles hurt in a good way.”

She froze and looked at him warily, her eyes unbelieving. “I’m… not allowed.”

He frowned and wrote with a little too much force. “Says who?!”

She looked away and spoke quietly. “The doors. They lock if I fight. Besides, I’m a lady.”

Oh. He shook his head in relief. “That’s if you  attack someone, not for training. And my Mamae and Mama are ladies and great warriors.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “Why… why are you teaching me?”

He took his time writing out his answer before showing it to her. “You are, hopefully, my friend. Training is fun, and you were going to hurt yourself with what you were doing. I’d rather train and have fun with you then you get hurt by yourself. You’re fast, even as weak as you are right now. I think you could keep up with me when I run the pack with some work.” He drew a smiling face below the words. 

She read the words, quietly. Her expression was conflicted when she glanced up at him. “You- you really want to be friends… not- you’re not just-“ she looked away again and sighed. “You don’t want to be my friend, Ash.”

He frowned and studied her before writing. “Why? Because you’re a girl? Or a human? Or can’t throw a punch? Or because you’re Orlesian?” 

She suddenly looked very guilty about something and she stood, handing him his knife. “Because I don’t belong here.” She turned and headed for the stairs.

He frowned and scribbled out a reply, and ran after her, shoving the notebook into her face. “So? Have fun and have friends until you get out of here. Train with me. Learn. Eat pies. Life is short and uncertain.”

She crossed her arms and glared around them as if trying to think. “Ash… you don’t-“

“ _ You want to run. _ ” He grimaced at the painful pull and the rough, scratchy way his whisper sounded. He hated talking… it hurt and it scared other kids and most of the time didn’t even work when he tried. 

She gaped at him and then paled and stepped backwards. He sighed and wrote in his notebook, unwilling to speak again. “It is alright. I understand. I would do the same. You’re ‘secret’ is safe.” He tore the page out and handed it to her.

She looked at the paper in shock before looking up at him. “Yo-you don’t care?”

“Course I care. It’s why I’m asking you to train with me. I don’t want you to get hurt. Shit, I love rock climbing too. Want to learn to climb walls?” He raised his eyebrows at her as he showed her his words.

She suddenly laughed and then was crying and he shifted awkwardly. Normally he would try to hug someone when they were upset, but he didn’t think she would be okay with that right now, so he was at a loss. 

When she stopped and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, she looked at him with a small smile before holding out her hand. “Friends?”

He beamed happily, and clasped her arm. Friends. 

They walked down the hall together at his suggestion of checking to see if there was any leftover dessert, Ash carefully steering her away from Papa’s gold eyes before she noticed him watching. Papa knew people needed to run. He would understand. 


	9. Chapter 9

Rochelle was exhausted. She had agreed to train with Ash and, merde, did he never rest? He ran before breakfast, running  _ backwards _ while she tried to keep up. He piled far too much meat onto her plate at breakfast, and helped her study and work through her lessons, and piled more meat on her plate at lunch, and they studied sign language and elvhen and homework under The Tree, and then they had sword or dagger training with the elf Abelas, and then supper, and then exercises before bed. Rochelle found herself falling into bed, aching and sore, and falling asleep practically before she hit the mattress. 

She had been appalled when Ash had shoved a bundle of clothes into her arms with a grin and a note that said ‘can’t run well in skirts. Get changed.’ He wanted her to dress in tunics and leggings instead of dresses and she could practically hear her mother shrieking at her to act as a proper lady. But… it was easier to run and move in the leggings, so she forced herself to get accustomed to wearing them, even leaving a request on her door for more of the same.

She felt confused relief, both at Ash’s odd understanding and… support of her wish to escape, and the fact that he still wished to be friends. And he seemed to honestly enjoy their time together, laughing in that airy, silent way of his when they trained or exercised, lighting up in a grin when she got a sign correct, or an elvhen phrase. He had actually picked her up into a pleased hug when she received full marks on one of her tests and then had announced proudly to every person they passed that she had finally learned to throw a punch when she made him drop her by hitting him in the side. 

She could finally do five ‘pushups’ in a row without falling when he brought out a large rope with knots spaced along its length and tossed it over one of the beams in the stables. He secured it and then jumped and grabbed onto it, hauling himself hand over hand to the beam, and then back down to the ground. He glanced at her doubtfully, then did it again, this time using his feet on the knots to help himself up and then back down. He held the rope out to her with an annoying eyebrow waggle and a sharp grin.

“There is no way I am going to manage that.” She grumbled, eyeing the long climb to the beam.

He laughed and signed. “ **Try** .” 

She huffed and stepped up to the rope, eyeing the climb. With a sigh, she grabbed the rope and jumped as he had and tried pulling herself up, cursing when she only slipped and fell, the rope rubbing her palms raw.

Ash collapsed onto the ground, laughing silently and she stomped the ground in irritation. “Stop laughing!”

He clamped a hand over his mouth, but his eyes were crinkled in amusement. “ **Try easier** .” He pointed at a wooden bar and then leapt up and grabbed it, pulling his chin over it, and then lowering himself back to the ground. He stepped aside and gestured at it as if he was ushering her to a dance. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” She asked as she eyed the bar irritably. 

He nodded smugly and clapped his hands together and pointed at the bar in demand. She needed to be able to lift her own body weight if she wanted the option of going over the walls. 

Fine. 

  
  
  


She’d been there months. Time had flown between her training with Ash and lessons. And she knew she had to try soon… Amelan and The Dread Wolf did not even glance up at her anymore.

She had overheard one of the elves talking about heading to MoonCall to bring in a group of ‘tal vashoth’ and take a caravan out, and she knew that MoonCall was the point of contact for Fenvhenan. It was beyond the barrier that protected the country, and if she could make it that far she could find help and make it home. 

She was careful to keep to her new routine while she listened where she could and tried to plan. Ash was pointedly ignoring her glances around on their runs and she was silently grateful when he said nothing when she paused at the sight of a stack of barrels beside a cart. Barrels large enough to fit a child her size. 

She ate supper with Ash and his family, careful not to act any differently, she spoke to Danielle in Orliesian, listened to the twins as they showed her drawings they were proud of. And pointedly ignored Amelan and the Dread Wolf as she always did. She went to her room after supper and waited for the count of a thousand five times before she slipped from her room, a small bag of food and a kitchen knife in her hand. She made it to the courtyard without attracting notice and slipped into a barrel that was to be loaded in the morning. 

Waiting was excruciatingly boring, and she fell asleep at some point because she was woken by the sounds of shouting around her, and then the barrel she was in was hefted up and moved. She waited with her heart in her throat, excitement and fear as it seemed her plan was going to work. 

And then just as suddenly, the top was wrenched off the barrel and a dark hand reached in and grabbed her arms, hauling her out as if she was as light as a kitten. Amelan set her down on the ground and raised his eyebrow at her. “You’re late for breakfast.” 

She looked around just in time to see the cart disappearing through the gate. She ran, trying to slip under the gate before it closed… she knew it was idiotic but she just had to try. She barely made it three steps before something invisible hit her in the stomach, firm but not painful, and then she was dragged backwards and back in front of him. Amelan was standing still, his hands behind his back and his eyes gold as he tilted his head at her with a wry smile. “You should probably check to see exactly what the barrels are supposed to contain before getting in them. You’re lighter than cider.” 

“You can’t keep me here!” She cursed and glared at him. “You have no right!” She had been so close.

“Probably not.” He said simply, then he began speaking soothingly, his hand going to her shoulder. “Come on, Rochelle, let’s go inside and eat breakfast. Ash missed you on your run this morning. Wouldn’t you like to go speak with him?”

She would. She wanted to eat and talk to her friend and she took a step towards the castle before she realized she was walking away from the gate and she wanted to talk to Ash but she was angry. She was angry. She stopped and blinked, feeling slightly dizzy and then with a rush of horror realized he had been using magic on her to make her behave. 

She felt the blood drain from her face at the thought, and another spike of hot anger burning in her chest. She spun, kicking his shin and hissed at him. “You are a  _ monster _ !” Before racing away, fleeing Amelan and his magic and she was crying but she was angry as she burst into her room and slammed the door shut.

She had been so close! 

She screamed in anger, throwing her books at the wall before slumping to the floor and crying. She wanted to go home! She didn’t know how long she had been crying before there was a knock at the door. 

“Go away!” She screamed.

There was a pause, and then a scratching sound. She growled and stomped over to the door and yanked it open, ready to shout at whoever was there. It was Ash, who looked livid.

He held up a paper written on in bold letters. “He shouldn’t have done that. I kicked him again for you.” He paused, then turned it around to reveal. “Coincidentally, I’ve been banned from desserts for a week.” 

She couldn’t help but let out a slightly hysterical giggle. “You really kicked him?”

He nodded solemnly before grinning and carefully signing. “ **Better luck next time** .” Then he held up another corner of the paper to show. “He promised to never use the mind magic on you again. I still can't have pie for a week though.” 

She felt… shocked that Ash had actually kicked his own papa on her behalf, had even been punished for her sake. Her stomach dropped at the thought. She had… Oh, Maker. She had kicked Amelan. She was not his son, she wouldn’t just have her desserts taken away. She was a foster. Ash suddenly looked concerned. “ **You alright** ?”

“I… I kicked him.” She glanced at the doorway uncertainly, half expecting the door to slam shut on her any second. “My… the rules are if I attack someone I get locked up.” 

“I think we can make an exception this time.” It was Amelan, walking down the hallway towards her.

She stepped back, frightened at his words. An exception, because she had attacked him? Would they cane her? Worse?

“Give us a moment, Ash?” Amelan said quietly, his massive hand resting on her friend’s shoulder. Ash narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth and Amelan… smiled. “I know. Thank you.” 

Ash nodded and gave her a little wave and… left her alone with Amelan. She took another step backwards, unable to tear her eyes from the massive ox man outside her bedroom door. Amelan looked at her with a blank face before he suddenly dropped to one knee outside her room and pressed his fist over his heart.

“Rochelle… I apologize for attempting to use my magic to coerce you. It was wrong of me, and I deeply regret it.”

She stared at him, shocked. “What?”

He looked up and gave her a half smile. “I’m apologizing to you. I messed up.”

“What?!”

The massive ox man rearranged himself so he was sitting cross legged, still outside her room. “You were upset and I…” He sighed and looked down. “I just wanted you to calm down, but that wasn’t okay. You’re just a kid and had every right to be upset. Ash kicked some sense into me. I’m sorry.”

She frantically tried to stop the spinning of her thoughts. “I… What? What is my…? what happens to me for attacking you?”

“Nothing. It was self defense.” He shrugged. “I was using…” He winced. “I was using my magic on you, and you had every right to make me stop. You will not be punished. You’re not in trouble.”

“Even… even though I tried to escape?” This was… unbelievable. 

“Course not. It’s only natural to want to escape.” He shrugged again. “I can’t fault you for that. I have to try and keep you here, for a lot of… complicated reasons, but I’m not going to punish you or anything for trying to escape.” 

Rochelle felt… no. This was a trap of some sort. Something to throw her off. Get her to trust. She couldn’t… couldn’t trust him or anyone here… anyone but Ash. “You kidnapped me.”

“Yeah.” Amelan’s mouth twisted unhappily and he stood up slowly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and she could almost see… see him close off like mother before she greeted a guest. He inclined his head. “You have my apologies, Miss Rochelle.” 

And then he walked away. Her door was still open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for child saarebas and all that entails

Ash had been so angry at Papa when he found out what he had done, and had let him know with as powerful of a kick as he could manage, signing as sharply as he could with his teeth bared because  _ how dare he _ use his magic on a kid like that, on his  _ friend _ . 

Mama had taken away his dessert rights for a week for kicking Papa, but Papa had gotten that horribly blank expression that meant he was thinking about Mamae and promised to go apologize to Rochelle. 

Rochelle was so, so brave. Ash could barely contain his pride in her for not only throwing off Papa’s magic, but also for kicking him. She was very fierce. She had taken the day off from lessons, and didn’t come out for supper, and he had nervously gone to her room after dinner and knocked. She looked like she had been crying when she answered and he hesitated before asking, “ **tree time? I have food** .”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and gave him a forced smile. “Okay.”

She was quiet all the way to the tree, and greeted it like he had shown her before sitting down. She stared up at the tree before asking. “Why do we do this?”

“ **Tree time** ?” He began unpacking the bag of food he had made for her.

“Yeah. It feels weird.” She absently took the sandwich he had made, still staring up at Babae’s tree. 

He switched to writing to try and explain. “Papa says it’s like a bridge between the fade and the physical, it connects them, draws magic from the fade and brings it over to us.”

Rochelle paled as she read the words and jumped to her feet. “What? Will there be demons?”

He shook his head vehemently. “ **No! No demon.** ” He scribbled in his notebook again. “Energy. You and I aren’t mages, so we’re-” He tapped his chin with his charcoal in thought. “Cut off? The tree helps us get used to the magic of the fade. Makes us… more.” 

She frowned, chewing her thumb nervously before speaking. “More? Is… is tree time why I could…”

“ **Ignore papa** ? **Yes** . **Maybe** . **You are also strong** .”

Rochelle’s mouth moved as she translated his signs, then smiled. “I am… aren’t I?”

He grinned and they spent more time under Babae’s tree, studying her missed lessons together. They stayed there until Papa came out of the main hall and Rochelle tensed.

Ash absently scribbled a reassuring, ‘he won’t hurt you’ as he watched Papa stalk across the courtyard. He was anxious about something… The wagons had gone to MoonCall, which meant something was returning from MoonCall. Uncle Bull! He jumped to his feet and put a hand on the tree, allowing it to rush through him as he put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, the magic of the tree making the sound echo through the air unnaturally.

Papa stopped and sighed, closing his eyes before signing, “ **really, Ash?** ”

Rochelle scrambled to stand, jutting her chin out under Papa’s gaze, but Papa was trying to be Amelan right now, so he just ignored her and signalled for the gates to open. Rochelle tensed and Ash could see the way she was gathering her muscles, ready to run, and he touched her arm to get her attention.

“ **Not yet. Watching.** ” 

She glanced around and he saw her eyes counting the guards and how close Papa stood to the opening. Her mind was racing, calculating, and then she sagged and nodded. The twins raced from the castle with Gaelathe and Leggy in tow, and Danielle appeared from one of the towers, walking at a ‘proper’ pace with Ant on her hip. Ash found himself bouncing eagerly as the gates opened and the wagons started rolling in and… There! Head and shoulders above everyone else, Uncle Bull!

He dropped his notebook with a grin and charged, and Uncle Bull laughed and dropped his head low enough to reach, bracing himself, and then they met in a crack of bone and horns that sent numbing jolts down his spine and left him staggering back. Bull laughed and grabbed one of his horns, yanking him around as he tried to find his balance again.

“You’re getting there, short stuff. Made me blink this time.” 

“Bull.” Papa’s voice was warm despite his formal posture.

“Boss.” Bull looked like he wanted to headbutt Papa too.

“Uncle Bull!” Isy hollered before taking off at a run. “Mayhem!”

“Mayhem!” Bull laughed and grabbed her, tossing her up into the air and catching her as she shrieked in delight. He did the same for Emy, Leggy, and even Gaelathe broke his solemn quietness to be tossed. Danielle just tackled him in a hug before letting him grab Ant and toss him before rubbing his scarred knuckles across the nubs on Ant’s head. “Well! Look at that! You’re getting your horns in! Thought they’d never show up!” 

Ant scrunched his nose. “They itch.”

“Yeah, I remember. Got you some balm for it.” Bull suddenly fell serious as Adaar walked up. “Hey, you little ones scoot for a minute, yeah?”

Papa’s mouth thinned into a grim line and Danielle hesitated before taking Ant back and herding the Littles away. Ash held really still and quiet and hoped they didn’t notice he was still there as Papa tilted his head to Adaar. “Adaar. You’re back early.”

“Yeah. Turned around early, half load.” The awesome mercenary said. “We have a bit of a situation.”

Ash felt more than saw Rochelle move to stand silently beside him, thankfully silent as they watched the grown ups move towards the covered wagon Adaar had escorted in. She pulled the cover open, and Ash saw a glimpse of white hair and brown horns before Papa sucked in a sharp breath and his magic flared. Rochelle flinched and Ash grabbed her arm before she could give them away.

Adaar’s face was twisted in distaste and pity as she said sternly in qunlat. “Out.” 

A kid scrambled out of the cart. A qunari kid, maybe eight or nine, with short cropped white hair, brown skin, and short, cut horns. She was wearing a collar and… Ash felt sick and unconsciously tightened his grip on Rochelle’s arm when he saw that the kid had her mouth sewn shut. Saarebas. 

“Control rod?” Papa’s voice was hard.

Adaar shook her head. “Couldn’t get at it. Was a last minute grab and run.”

Papa raised his hand and sent out a flare of golden light towards the castle, and a heartbeat later, Babae appeared in the courtyard, Fade Stepping towards them in a buzz of green magic. 

“Amelan?”

“Fen’Harel. Saarebas, collar but no rod.” Papa indicated the kid with his horns and Babae’s face hardened. 

Babae frowned as he knelt in front of the kid, examining the collar, before snapping. “Step back.” Everyone obeyed and took a large step back, and Babae’s magic flared and then the kid was scrambling back against the cart, her chest heaving and her black eyes panicked as the collar fell from her neck. Babae made a shushing noise and touched the kid’s face, and the threads and wounds disappeared from her lips.

She began crying as Babae stepped back from her to let Papa help. Papa reached for her, no doubt to calm her from her panic, when Rochelle suddenly wrenched her arm from his grip and threw herself forward, darting in between the kid and Papa. “No! Don’t!” Her hand shot out and pushed Papa’s hand away as hard as she could. Her eyes were fierce and angry. “You are scaring her!”

Papa sighed. “Rochelle, I know- You need to step away, right now. Saarebas are dangerous wh-“

“She’s a child. Not a thing!” Rochelle screamed at him, her hands balling into fists. Ash saw the Saarebas’ hand reach out and grip the back of her tunic. “You can’t just throw your magic at her!” 

Papa took a step back, his face impassive but his magic flaring like it did when he was upset. He grabbed the tattoo on his left wrist before speaking quietly. “She just lost her keeper and needs-” 

Rochelle’s eyes darted around before she straightened her spine. “Then I am her keeper.” 

Papa blinked in honest surprise. “What?”

“I, Rochelle de  Gasqueux , do claim this child as my ward.” Rochelle was visibly trembling as she took the kid’s hand, but her eyes were fierce as she stared Papa down. 

“I think you have to be of age to do that.” Adaar said quietly, looking between Rochelle and Papa in unease. Papa and Babae stared at each other in that way that meant they were speaking in their head and then...

“You know what…” Papa ran a hand over his face before eyeing the way that the Saarebas was clinging to Rochelle. “I’m gonna let that stand. Fenvhenan recognizes your claim to your ward. Congratulations, Miss Rochelle, you are now caretaker to a traumatized, volatile mage. I highly, highly suggest you go talk to Fen’Harel and get some magic cancelling barriers for yourself.” 

Papa turned and pointed at him. “As for you…” He muttered under his breath and ran his hand over his face. “You are just like your papa and it is so, so stressful. You get to help her.” 

Ash nodded and went to stand next to Rochelle, the saarebas kid shrinking away from him but still clinging tightly to Rochelle’s dress. He looked at Rochelle, who looked pale and stunned, as if she hadn’t actually expected that to work, and then at the saarebas, who was shaking and looked… thin. He nudged Rochelle’s elbow and pointed at the kid before signing, “ **she eat?** ” 

Babae let out a sharp breath before speaking to Rochelle. “Her magic will be volatile until she settles. I will expect you to bring her to the mage’s tower for lessons each afternoon, and will send a dream ward to your room so her dreams are safe.” 

Rochelle stiffened at his voice but straightened her shoulders and jerked her chin. “Yes, ser.”

Ash looked between Papa and Babae before carefully taking Rochelle’s hand, who took the kid’s hand, and began pulling them towards the castle so the grown ups could talk. Papa looked… blank, like he was keeping something painful hidden inside.

  
  
  


Rochelle didn’t know what she had been thinking. She had seen Amelan reach for the ox girl, and had felt his magic, and she just couldn’t let him cast on the terrified ox girl. She just couldn’t! And then she had frantically tried to put the ox girl under her protection, to afford her some of the slight privilege that she had as Ash’s claimed, and for some reason it had worked! But now…

She didn’t know how to care for someone. She was barely keeping herself intact in this strange place, and now she had an ox girl whose  _ mouth  _ had been sewn shut and was a mage, and Rochelle didn’t know what to do, and Ash kept looking at her like she was the most amazing thing he had ever seen, but she was just a kid herself and was scared and confused. She pushed a bowl of soup towards the girl with a smile. Ilaan from the kitchens had been surprisingly helpful. “Do you feel like eating?”

The girl looked up with wide, black eyes, but didn’t answer. Ash frowned and wrote out a bunch of letters and Rochelle sounded them out loud. It didn’t sound like any word she knew, but the girl nodded and hesitantly began to drink. Ash’s mouth twisted and he sighed silently before writing. “She only knows Qunlat.” 

Well… merde! She didn’t know any qunlat… how was she supposed to…? She let her head fall into her hands. “I don’t know anything in qunlat.”

Ash nudged her with his notebook, and when she looked up he pointed at himself. 

“You know qunlat?” He nodded and she sighed in relief. Then sighed again in disappointment. “But you can’t speak.” 

He shrugged, then wrote down a few more syllables for her to sound out. It did not make any sense, but the girl frowned, then spoke in a quiet, surprisingly soft voice. “Saarebas.” 

Ash looked sad before writing. “She has no name. Saarebas means ‘dangerous thing’.” 

Rochelle shivered at the thought of never having a name, and being thought of as a thing… not a person. She turned to the ox girl and… suddenly froze… wasn’t that what she had been doing this whole time? ‘Ox boy’ ‘Ox Girl’ ‘elfboy’ ‘Knifear’ ‘rabbit’ her stomach turned.

Ash wrote, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Ask her this:” There were a series of syllables, followed by, “It’s asking if she has a preference for a name.” 

Rochelle sounded out the syllables, and the girl frowned. “Saarebas.” 

Ash shrugged and wrote out. “You’ll have to name her. She’s still Qunari. She can change it if she doesn’t like it when she goes Vashoth.” 

Rochelle blinked at him. “What could I name her? Didn’t she have a name before she… became a… you know?”

Ash smiled and shook his head. “Qunari don’t have names. They have job titles. I got my name when my Tama snuck me out of Par Vollen. I was going to be Ben Hassreth. She was called iskaari, or child, until she became Saarebas, dangerous thing. But here.” He drew out a series of triangles, two facing up and two down, two with lines through them, and showed them to the girl. The girl hesitated before touching one of them, and Ash gave her a bright smile before signing. “ **She likes water** .”

Rochelle looked at the girl… she liked water… so names associated with water? She looked at Ash… “Here, write these and the translation beside them for her.” Ash smiled and nodded. “River…. Ocean… Rain.”

She carefully sounded out the letters Ash wrote, and the girl brightened at the one for Rain. “Rain? Uh, Rain is...” She repeated the sound and the girl looked down at her empty bowl before nodding. Alright. The- her ward was named Rain. For now. 

Oh, Maker! She had a ward. She couldn’t leave her here alone when she escaped. Rain was her responsibility. “Ash… What am I supposed to do? I can’t- I can’t leave her here but I can’t stay.” 

Ash tilted his head and wrote carefully. “She’s a mage. Help her learn. Let her help.”

“You mean… take her with me?”

Ash nodded with a smile and a shrug, then wrote. “Maybe wait till she has some control and can speak common.” 

Control. Of her magic. Because her ward was a mage. 

Ash suddenly shoved his notebook at her. She glanced at the words. He was suggesting they ask his little brother, who spoke qunlat apparently. “Why would Gaelathe help us though?” 

Ash looked at her blankly before closing his eyes and frowning, touching his bracelet, then signing. “ **He’s coming** .”

Rochelle frowned and looked at the bracelet in confusion. It was a simple thing of black leather and little silver charms… wolves, knives, feathers, and other things she didn’t recognize. “How do you know?”

Ash turned his wrist to show a charm with a green stone in it, then wrote. “Tracking spells, all us wolf kids got them from Babae. Dani modified them so we could call each other too.” 

Rochelle blinked at them and was about to ask how that worked but the- Rain suddenly stiffened and her fingers tangled in her sleeve. Rochelle looked up to see Gaelathe walking in, as solemn as ever. 

“I’m assuming you need a translator?” The el- Gaelathe asked.

“Um. Yes? Please? She only speaks qunlat, and Ash knows it but can’t speak so it’s a bit… cumbersome to communicate.” She hesitated, trying to think of what the- what Gaelathe might want in return, what she could offer for his help, but Gaelathe just began speaking in a guttural language and Rain’s eyes widened before she replied. 

Ash frowned and moved his hands rapidly, and Gaelathe spoke some more, and Rain looked… resigned before nodding. Gaelathe turned to her with a sad twist to his mouth, his eyes looking much, much older than they should. “She believes you are her new Arvaarad, her new guard and keeper. I… may have allowed her to continue to believe it for her safety.”

“What? Why? I mean, she’s officially my ward, but she’s not… mine.” 

“Saarebas are… taught to destroy themselves if they don’t have an Arvaarad.” Gaelathe and Ash both looked disgusted but Gaelathe continued. “I let her know that you will not be collaring her, that things work differently in the Wolf’s Heart, but I imagine she will not be letting you out of her sight for… quite some time. Normally Papa has the new Saarebas go to the mage’s tower to help them acclimate to being unbound and to learn common.” 

Rochelle allowed herself a moment of lapse in composure to drop her head to the table with a heavy groan. What had she gotten herself into?

Rain quietly asked something and Rochelle turned her head to look at the girl. She was looking nervously at Ash, who was shaking his head. Gaelathe answered Rain in Qunlat, and then spoke solemnly. “She asked if Ash was your Saarebas as well, if you would have her voice cut from her as you had his.” 

Oh Maker.

What had she gotten herself into?!


	11. Chapter 11

Another bed had been moved into her room by the time they returned, with a simple necklace and a note left on her desk. 

_ Miss Rochelle.  _

_ This necklace is warded to keep dreams safe for your ward. Have her wear it for both of your safety. Things are being made for your ward. I wish you luck. Come to me if you need help. _

_ Fen’Harel _

Rochelle examined the necklace tentatively, unwilling to touch it without knowing what it was. She vaguely remembered something similar on Amelan however, so it should be safe. She cautiously picked it up, and nothing happened, so she smiled at Rain, who was looking around the room silently. She held the necklace out to her, hoping the gesture translated. “For you.” 

Rain stared at her in a wide eyed, confused way and Rochelle sighed, wishing Ash had come with them but it was bedtime and he had to stay with his family. So she mimed putting the necklace over her head and then held it out to Rain with a smile. Rain nodded and took the necklace and put it on, then looked around with a slight furrow between her brows. 

Rochelle took her hand carefully and led her to the washroom, showing her how each thing worked, then to the little chest at the end of the new bed that held the same simple clothing that she had been given when she arrived here, as well as a small jar with another note, this one from Amelan. 

_ ‘Horn balm, to help with the itching. Apply a thin coat from base to end once a day, but don’t touch the broken section until it’s fully healed. They’ll be painful.’ _

Oh Maker. Was Rain in pain? She looked at her ward in concern and pointed at her own head. “Hurt?”

Rain blinked, then smiled in… shocked joy? and sat on the edge of the bed and bent her head, presenting the stubs of her horns to her. The edges were cleanly cut, but inside looked raw and painful. Rochelle hesitantly opened the jar and wrinkled her nose at the scent, it was sharp and pungent, but yet… familiar. She thought she smelled it on Ash in the mornings. She dipped her finger into it and carefully began smoothing it over the rough surface of Rain’s horns. After a second, Rain exhaled softly and seemed to relax. 

Rochelle finished and corked the jar and Rain reached for it, then paused with that furrow between her brow as her black eyes flicked up to the top of Rochelle’s head. She said something in Qunlat with a slight head tilt. A question. Rochelle shrugged, then went to put away the jar and wash her hands and dress for bed. When she came out of the wash room, Rain was changed into the nightgown she had set out and was holding Rochelle’s hairbrush from the dresser.

The girl patted the bed and Rochelle sat, confused but willing to see what she wanted. “Hurt.”

What? But Rain just moved behind her and began brushing out her hair gently. After a moment, she began humming and Rochelle began to realize the shape of this. This must be a ritual of some sort among qunari, to tend each other’s horns. Amelan and Ash must care for each others horns, and Rain and… whoever she had before must have cared for each others horns. But Rochelle didn’t have horns, so Rain had figured out something else to tend to. 

But that was a mistranslation. She waited until Rain had set aside the brush to turn and held up her hair. “Hair.” She touched Rain’s horns. “Horn.” She hesitated and then mimed being in pain, wincing and flinching. “Hurt.” Then she pointed at Rain’s horns. “Horns hurt?”

Rain blinked, then nodded, then shrugged with a quiet qunlat phrase. Rochelle couldn’t help but hug the girl. They were almost the same size despite Rain being so much younger, and when Rain let out a broken sob and clutched her tightly, her arms were strong enough to make Rochelle’s ribs hurt. But she didn’t care. Her ward was hugging her and her horns had been cut, and her  _ mouth _ had been sewn shut, and now she was crying and Rochelle wanted to make sure nothing like this ever happened to her again.

“I’m going to keep you safe, Rain. You’re with me now.” She whispered. 

  
  


Bull would admit to being completely and utterly shocked when a tiny little wisp of a human kid had charged at Amelan, who was pretty damn scary, and had bodily shoved his hand away and put herself between him and the saarebas. He had been completely and utterly impressed when she had refused to back down, even when faced with Amelan’s disapproval, had screamed at him and scolded him and stood up to him.

And Amelan… had backed down and given her what she wanted. Bull hadn’t seen Amelan back down since Lil’Bit, since he was Damon. 

He went to have breakfast with the… the family the next morning, and was interested that there were two empty chairs between Ash and Gaelathe. He was sitting across from Ash, and he would bet that there was a reason he was over here instead of next to Amelan. Sure enough, Amelan’s head moved and if you followed the line of his vision, there was the kid in a doorway, looking at the table uncertainly, the saarebas she had faced Amelan down for clinging to her shirt.

She was nervous, but she looked over the table once more before straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin and walking towards them. She went directly to the empty chairs, made sure her… ‘ward’ had food and drink, and looked across the table at him with wide, scared eyes that drifted from his eyepatch, to his horns, to his scars. He could see her gather up her courage as she pulled a notebook from her pocket and faced him with a determined look. “Hello. I am Rochelle. Were you qunari?”

“Yeah.” He would admit he was a bit surprised she knew that distinction.

“May I ask you questions? I have several phrases I need translated into phonetic qunlat as well as some cultural questions.” She pushed the notebook across the table towards him, and he pretended to read the phrases as he studied her from under his eyelashes. 

She was Orlesian, one of the ‘fosterlings’ Amelan had taken. She was terrified of him, and of Amelan and Fen’Harel, but she was fond of Ash and amiable towards Gaelathe. And she was protective of the saarebas. Her questions were neatly written and well thought out and the phrases were all useful. She… reminded him of Lil’Bit. A lot. He looked at Amelan with a smirk. “She must step on your toes a lot.”

Amelan sighed and laughed, an honest crack in his Amelan to the old Damon. “Since she was dragged in kicking and biting.” 

Bull raised his eyebrows and turned back to the kid, this Rochelle, who seemed to break down Amelan with her stubborn courage. “Name’s Bull.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ser Bull.” She said shakily, and held her hand out in greeting. He shook it, noting the tremor in her arm as his hand dwarfed hers, but her eyes stayed on his.

“You remind me of someone very, very brave and stubborn.” He said, noting Fen’Harel’s flinch at the words. An actual flinch, a visible reaction. This kid was something special. 

“Thank you. But I have lessons after breakfast, and I would like to have the information I need before then.” Still she was being brave.

“Yeah, here, gimme the translations you need and I’ll answer the questions for you.” 

He started writing out the words she needed in phonetic common letters and the girl set her mouth. “What are the cultural connotations of balming another’s horns?”

Huh. Kid was smart too. “It’s a… You care for those around you and they care for you, because that’s the way things should be, everyone working together to benefit the whole. Outside of the Qun, it’s a bonding thing. You do it for family and lovers. For iskaari, it would be something they did with their Tama.” 

Rochelle was taking notes, actual notes. “Thank you. Ser Bull. Now, Gaelathe said that Rain believes I am her Arvaarad. What exactly does that mean? I was told it means guard and keeper.” 

Damn. He looked at Fen’Harel, who was staring at his plate impassively, not reacting to a thing, which meant he was purposefully hiding his emotions. Amelan was staring at Rochelle with the same impassive face but pained eyes. She really did remind them of Lil’Bit. 

“Means ‘one who holds back evil’. Arvaarad are supposed to keep an eye on Saarebas, keep them from getting corrupted, and if they do, kill them.”

Rochelle’s hand tightened around her pen and she let out a quiet ‘ah’ noise. “And if the… arvaarad is from another place and culture that said that things are different for a saarebas?”

Bull looked at the saarebas, Rain, the kid called her, at the way she was shrinking against Rochelle’s side and looking at him nervously. “I would say she thinks you’re her protector to keep her from getting corrupted.” 

Rochelle smiled slightly. “Good.” 

The Littles were talking to each other in elvhen and Danielle was chatting quietly to the Seeker, and Amelan and Fen’Harel were pointedly not looking at Rochelle. Ash… Ash was watching her with admiring eyes, and damn right he should be, she was… just like Lil’Bit. Brave and stubborn and smart. He spoke to Ash in Qunlat. “She is something wonderful, isn’t she?”

Ash nodded and signed. “ **Strong. Lady of Stone** .” 

Rain spoke up quietly, hesitantly. “What is she?”

Bull noted Rochelle’s small smile at Rain’s voice, her careful notes and translated phrases needed to care for someone, of the way she protected the saarebas with her body and will and faced down massive, powerful people even when terrified, the forming calluses of someone learning to fight with knives and budding muscles of someone training hard. “She is your strength.” 

And he would put money on the little pebble being the death of Amelan. 


	12. Chapter 12

Ser Bull had been extremely helpful. She now had the phonetic translations for key words for some sort of communication with Rain. At breakfast, Rain had not been able to eat much. After a few bites she had stopped and Ser Bull said it was because she was not used to having a lot to eat… it was also likely why she was so thin. Ash’s brother, Ant, who was significantly younger, was still thick and sturdy, where Rain was thin and wispy. As wispy as the qunari ever could be at least. But Rochelle simply wrapped some butter rolls in a napkin for Rain to nibble on later. She didn’t like the way her wrist and shoulder bones stuck out. 

Ash and Gaelathe walked with her and Rain to the morning lessons, Rain staring wide eyed at everything in the classroom… Rochelle frowned when she realized that the class she was in was probably way too advanced for Rain to follow, and the girl would not relinquish her hold on her shirt long enough to be placed in a lower class, which… she wouldn’t even understand as she did not speak common yet. So on a whim she copied down the common alphabet and gave it to Rain with some extra paper. She tried to focus on her lessons, but kept glancing over to see Rain studiously copying line after neat line of the letters, one of the butter rolls held in her mouth as she wrote. Ash had smiled when she glanced back at him and held one of his thumbs up at her in approval.

After that she was to see Rain to the mage’s tower… which did not go as she expected. Rain was fine, until they got there. The head mage smiled and took Rain’s hand to lead her away, but Rain suddenly screamed and wrenched away from her to grip Rochelle’s shirt, falling to her knees on the ground next to her and murmuring in hasty qunlat while pressing her forehead to Rochelle's stomach.

Rochelle kept her hand on Rain’s shoulder while she frantically flipped through the pages of the translations Ser Bull had given her. “Not Hurt You.” 

Rain kept up her frantic murmuring and Rochelle looked up helplessly when a large shadow fell over her to see Ser Bull watching with a pensive expression. She wanted to step back from the huge man, merde but he was scary, but Rain was scared and needed help. “What is she saying? I don’t know how to help reassure her.” 

“She’s asking you to keep her and not give her to another Arvaarad.” Ser Bull said quietly, something in his voice making her feel like he was waiting to see how she’d handle this.

“I wouldn’t!” Rochelle felt sick at the thought, like Rain could be given away and traded like a… thing. “Can you please tell her that I would never! She’s- We’re just here to help her learn to control her magic. I’m not giving her away.” She touched Rain’s face and gently pulled her away from her stomach to look in her eyes. “Rain, I’m not leaving you, you just need lessons I can’t give you. I’m going to protect you.”

Ser Bull hummed before he spoke in the guttural qunlat, and Rain quieted, still clinging to her, but not begging. 

“I’ll… I’ll stay with her while she learns, if that’s what she wants.” Rochelle looked up at Ser Bull. “I have to bring her here, but I’ll stay.”

“You’re not worried about all the magic?” Ser Bull, asked his voice still quiet but she still felt like she was being examined. 

“Terrified.” She muttered before shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter. She’s my ward.” 

Ser Bull chuckled before he said a few more words to Rain and the girl nodded frantically. “She would like you to stay with her.” He supplied before turning on his heel. “You’re okay, Pebble.” 

Pebble? What? She frowned at his back, then turned her attention back to Rain and gently pulled her to her feet and gave her another tentative hug. Rain clung to her with more murmured qunlat before she let Rochelle pull away and take her hand. The head mage was still there with a thoughtful expression and Rochelle lifted her chin properly. “I will be staying with my ward during her lessons.” 

  
  
  


Ash was… okay, he would admit he was more than halfway to smi tten. He was thirteen and nowhere near old enough to be thinking about stuff like that, but Rochelle was… she was amazing. He had never seen anyone face down Papa like that and win since Mamae had been taken. Even Papa and Babae seemed impressed by her. 

And then! She took care of Rain. Speaking softly, facing down Bull, taking notes and going into the mage’s tower. She was just… amazing. Ash would willingly follow her into battle. 

And speaking of, it was time for their training, and Rochelle was walking towards the yard in her training clothes, Rain’s hand in her own as she pointed things out and spoke. Ash waved and Rain hesitantly waved back, and Rochelle gave him a smile.

Abelas looked over Rain with a slight furrow between his eyebrows before he spoke. “Another friend, da’tarlin?”

Ash nodded. “ **That is Rain, Rochelle’s ward** .”

“Will you be training with us as well, miss Rain?”

“She only speaks Qunlat, Ser Abelas.” Rochelle answered. “We can start so she sees what we’re doing, and if she wants to join in, can she?” 

“Of course.” Abelas paused, then hesitantly, like he did when he wasn’t sure if he was allowed, asked. “Do you not have a translation charm?”

Ash blinked. Why hadn’t he remembered that? Rochelle’s mouth fell open. “There’s a… translation spell?” 

“Yes. An ancient elven spell that is used to communicate between languages, it requires a matching pair of charms.”

Rochelle’s eyes narrowed. “I see. I will be speaking to Fen’Harel after our training then.” 

Amazing. Abelas paled though, still skittish around Babae and Papa even after several years. Ash bounced impatiently on his heels and pointed at the practice weapons with his eyebrows raised, and Rochelle laughed. “Alright, alright. We are moving.” 

Rain sat with their books and bags by the edge of the training yard, watching intently as she chewed slowly on one of the pies Rochelle had bribed the twins to snag for her over lunch, and Ash got to have fun as apparently Abelas had decided that Rochelle had advanced enough to spar.

Which… might have been more fun for him than her as he managed a touch for the third time in a row.

“Merde! Your arms are too long!” Rochelle hissed, her face red but her eyes amused. Ash shrugged but grinned. She would learn to get under his guard. Probably not much longer too, as fast as she was learning. Rochelle suddenly furrowed her brow. “Why are they putting that there?” 

He looked, and then immediately slapped his forehead with his hand when he felt her practice dagger touch his stomach. Had he  _ really _ fallen for that? She laughed, bright and open, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. “ **Sneaky** .”

She gave a mock bow. “Why thank you, good Ser. That is a high compliment for a lady.”

He rolled his eyes and snatched her practice dagger from her hand and put them up. “ **Tree time** .” 

“If we must.” Rochelle sighed, then thanked Abelas and offered her hand to Rain, who took it without hesitation. They wandered over to the tree, and when they got close, Rain’s eyes widened and she tugged her hand out of Rochelle’s and ran to the Tree, circling it eagerly as she looked over it. She bounced and spoke in Qunlat. “May I touch it?”

Ash nodded and Rain reached out and touched it with one finger, then her whole hand, then she hugged it, and then… Did she just lick it? Rain gasped. “It feels like magic but it is solid! I can… I can feel it, like I can feel…” She suddenly stopped, her eyes wide with fear as the blood drained from her face. She stepped back and put her hands behind her back, glancing between him and Rochelle nervously. 

Rochelle gave her a concerned glance, then stepped forward and greeted the tree, and Ash did the same. Rain looked a little less terrified after they did, and when they had settled under the tree to go over their lessons, she hesitantly spoke. “Will I not be… Am I expected…” She trailed off helplessly and Rochelle suddenly stood up. 

“Come, we will speak to Fen’Harel and get that translation spell.” Rochelle said firmly, holding out a hand for Rain, who took it shyly. Ash gathered up their stuff and followed, interested in seeing Rochelle face down Babae. 

Rochelle marched into the main hall and then stopped and looked back at him with a blush of embarrassment. “Um… do you know where I can find him?”

He grinned at her and nodded, and headed for the office that Babae and Papa hid from everyone. The eluvian was hidden and locked, but it would make Babae antsy to know she knew where the office was. Babae looked up with a smile when he walked in, a smile that immediately vanished when Rochelle and Rain came through the door behind him.

“Ser Fen’Harel, you wrote to come to you for help if I needed it.” Rochelle’s voice was shaking slightly but her chin was up and her spine was straight.

Babae’s face turned blank. His eyes took in Rain and how Rochelle had practically dragged her in. “Ah,” Babae said quietly then stood. “It seems you have come to your senses, Miss Rochelle. I will send for someone to collect Rain, if yo-“

“What!? No!” Rochelle yelled, pulling Rain behind her protectively. Ash leaned against the wall to watch. Rochelle narrowed her eyes again. “You-! You didn’t give me the spell on purpose! You think I’m going to give her up because I have to work a little bit to help!”

The surprise on Babae’s face before he hid it in a scowl made Ash grin. She really, really got through Papa and Babae’s masks, made them be real.

“Miss Rochelle, you are not equipped to care for-“

“I am not equipped? I am twelve years old, I have been kidnapped, and hidden, and thrown into a whole new-” She made a frustrated noise. “Of course I am not equipped but I am going to do my  _ fucking  _ best to help Rain, who is in a worse mess than I am in! And you and Amelan are standing there waiting for me to fail… to give up! I won’t!” She closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose, and then put on a polite smile. “So, Ser Fen’Harel, if you would be so kind as to provide me with a pair of translation charms for Rain and I, I would be grateful. If you are too preoccupied in trying to make me fail rather than giving Rain a chance to actually acclimate, however, I will not be giving Rain up. I will continue to track down Qunlat phrases and use gestures and pictures, and whatever else I must in order to communicate with my ward. As I have been.” She narrowed her eyes. “ _ Ser _ .” 

Babae’s eyes narrowed before his hand went to a drawer on his desk. “Very well, Miss Rochelle.” He reached in and pulled out two charms attached to chain necklaces and held them out, his eyes daring her to take them from his hand.

Ash watched her hesitate, then march forward and take the charms, inclining her head politely with a stiff. “Thank you.” He started clapping slowly as she walked towards the door and Babae gave him a completely unamused glare.

Rochelle paused, a slight blush on her cheeks and said pointedly. “I’m beginning to think you inherited your good traits from your mothers, Ash.” 

Ash blinked at her in shock as she tugged Rain out of the office, then looked at Babae who was looking down at his hand with a sad expression he only got when he thought about mamae. 

Ash hesitated, torn between following his friend and trying to comfort Babae, but Babae spoke softly. “Go on. She is right, I had the charms prepared but withheld them in hopes she would change her mind.” 

Ash snorted and Babae let out a quiet sigh. “Yes. I realize now that was unlikely.” 


	13. Chapter 13

Dorian had perfectly valid reasons for traipsing through that awful Inbetween to reach Fenvhenan. And that perfectly valid reason happened to be seven foot tall and with more muscle than taste. He would admit to a slight bounce in his step as he graced the halls of Skyhold with his presence. He would not, however, admit to the slight squeak of surprise he let out when he almost tripped over a child, no three children, in the corridor. He recognized Ash, of course, but the human girl and the qunari girl were strangers to him. And they were in the rather heavily guarded section of the castle, reserved for family and friends. He knew that Damon had not adopted more children, so...

“How did you get in here? This is a family only area.”

The human girl looked nervously back at Ash. “I- Ash claimed me as his, I-”

“He what!?” Dorian gaped, actually gaped, at the boy. “You what?”

Ash blinked in confusion. “ **Papa said to pick someone** .”

“He what!?” Damon was adamantly, fervently against arranged marriages, against children being betrothed. “You cannot be Ash’s intended. I’m sure there has been a misunderstanding.”

The human girl straightened her spine indignantly. “I am not a baby, ser. I am a foster from a lesser noble family, and the heir to Fenvhenan claimed me. I know how these things work.”

Dorian might have set something on fire if it wasn’t for the confused way Ash’s eyes were darting between him and the girl. It must be a misunderstanding.  _ Must _ be. “Follow. All of you.” 

He swept off and was gratified that the children followed him. Followed him all the way to Amelan’s study, which he burst into without the courtesy of a knock. “Amelan!”

Amelan blinked at him placidly. “Magister Pavus.”

“Would you please explain to me why this girl believes she is to be married to Ash? I know you’ve taken to some rather shadowed things of late, but I thought you were still above forcing children to marry.”

Amelan blinked again. And then frowned at the girl. “What?”

The girl looked… lost. “You… you told him to pick someone, and he… he picked me. He claimed me.” 

Ash looked equally confused. “ **As a friend** .”

“But... “ The girl put her hand to her head with a wince, as if she had a headache. “Fen’Harel specifically said claim, I’m a foster, it-”

“No!” Amelan recoiled. “We’re not-” He shook his head and his shoulders relaxed and Amelan was set aside and Damon was let out… and oh, it was a glorious change, one that he saw less and less of, but was still there. “Oh, hun, we’re- Dorian, help?”

Dorian couldn’t help an internal sigh of relief that it had been a misunderstanding. His friend had changed so much… “What the man means to say, is his family is impossible and far too… wolf like, to know of such things as manners and customs.” 

“Thank you, Sparkler. That was super helpful.” Damon said dryly. “You’re not betrothed or claimed or whatever. I told Ash to find a friend, and he chose you, the most difficult foster in Fenvhenan, and the only one that tries to escape. That’s all.” 

That was an interesting tidbit of information… something he would be sure to speak with Bull about. She was sure to have caught his attention already if she was as… strong hearted as she seemed. 

The girl actually stepped back, the qunari girl moved with her, her hand twisted in the back of the human girl’s shirt. “This… does not make sense!”

Ash stepped forward and began signing urgently. “ **I swear I didn't know, I just wanted a friend and thought you are awesome! I wasn’t trying to** -”

“Ash. I can’t- I don’t understand you.” The human girl said faintly. “Too fast.” 

“He said that he didn’t know and that he just wanted a friend and thought you were awesome and that he wasn’t trying to force you into a contract.” Damon translated quietly. “We do not do arranged marriages in Fenvhenan. They are not accepted, especially between children.”

“There. I told you it was a misunderstanding.” Dorian sniffed. “Now that I have cleared that up so neatly, I have… matters to tend to.”

“Bull is in the tub. If you hurry you might catch him in it.” Damon said crassly.

“Well. then it seems I have urgent matters to tend to.” Dorian inclined his head and swept off in a wonderfully dramatic flare of robes. 

  
  
  


Rochelle didn’t know what to do as she watched the Magister march away. Half of her mind was stuck on the fact that a Tevinter Magister could come and go from Fenvhenan, apparently was on close enough terms with Amelan to have a nickname and be allowed in the family quarters. The other half of her mind was reeling from the fact that she… wasn’t actually to be betrothed. That she wouldn’t be betrothed because arranged marriages were not legal in Fenvhenan.

She looked over at Amelan at a loss then demanded. “Why am I here then?” 

“It’s complicated.” Amelan started to brush her off and she could tell he was closing a part of him away that had surfaced when the Magister came in (he had called her ‘hun’ like he did with the twins and Danielle), and she stomped her foot forcefully. She wanted answers, not his… his Mask! 

“Then explain it!” She felt Rain tuck herself behind her back again and moved one hand behind her back so her ward could grab it in comfort. “This is my life and I’m stuck here and I want to know why!” 

Amelan sighed, a deep, weary sigh. “Because I’m trying to save as many as I can. Because while you’re here, thousands of elves in your father’s lands are safe. Because while you’re here, no one will dare attack the trade caravans or the transports. Because while you’re here, the White Tree is going to help you live if- when things happen. Because while you’re here, you will learn to be strong, and smart, and not a helpless coddled toy to be married off for someone’s benefit. Because if you’re here when the world ends, you might just survive.” He gave her a grim look. “Does that satisfy?”

She blinked at him. That was… “You are insane!” 

“Quite possibly, yes.” The massive man shrugged, still closing off. “You asked, and I answered. It does not change your stay.” 

Rochelle balled her hands. “So in a misguided attempt to ‘save me’, you kidnap me and who knows how many others?”

“One hundred and thirteen. More if you count the stolen Qunari kids.” He was staring at her steadily, his eyes pale and without magic, but still unsettling. “Such as Rain. Who I hired a mercenary to kidnap from her home and Avaarad.” 

“What if we don’t want to be taken?” Rochelle asked even as her hand found Rain’s. She couldn’t bear to think about the girl still with that horrible collar and her mouth sewn shut. 

“Hence the locks on the door.” He sighed. “The fact remains, that elves are coming to Fenvhenan en masse, and they need to be able to get here safely, and the ones left behind need to be safe. You being here has saved a thousand lives.” 

She looked at Ash, desperate to make her point as he seemed to be oblivious to the suffering he caused. “And what if someone was to take your children? Ash… Gaelathe… the twins?”

“Someone tried to murder my sister while she was pregnant with the twins, almost killed Ash while he was at it. They’re dead.” Amelan said coldly. 

“So you care for them. Would fight for them and kill for them.” She said triumphantly. “The only reason your kidnapping has been successful is because of parents who care for their children, who would come for them if they could find you. Think of the dread you felt and now that you put that same dread and fear in the hearts of parents. Now tell me if that is right? Can be justified?”

“No. It isn’t right, but it is necessary.” Amelan looked tired. “Your father is a chevalier. Did he ever tell you of the initiation tradition?”

“ _ Papa _ …” Ash rasped suddenly, and Amelan startled at the rough whisper of his voice “ _ I don’t think _ -” 

He coughed and touched his throat and Amelan winced and ran his hand over his face. “Yeah, you’re right, kiddo. I’m sorry.” He blew out a sharp breath and stood. “I’m going to go run. Let your babae know I’ll be out in the valley with the pack.” 

Rochelle stepped back and away as Amelan stood and walked around the desk headed for the door, but he stopped and looked down at her… “You got the charms.” He whispered with a hint of amusement before his face fell and his eyes looked… tired. “You are not wrong. I wasn’t telling you that you were wrong.”

He stepped past her, and then in an eye blurring flash of gold magic, he was gone. Rain said something in Qunlat, and the translation charms gave her the words in her mind. “May I learn whatever he just did?” 

Rochelle nodded numbly. “Of course.”


	14. Chapter 14

Cassandra had watched as Amalen slowly… ever so slowly took over and Damon disappeared, only coming out in tender moments with the children. For nearly six years… but the man before her right now… it was Damon, her Damon… and the children were nowhere to be seen as he sobbed, his head pressed into her lap. She was torn between the heart hurt of her lover crying to her, and the hope that… that he was still… Damon.

She moved his hair aside to look at the tattoo on the back of his neck. He had added many since Emma had been called back, a gold and silver tree that’s roots curled around a ball of flame in the small of his back and grew along his spine, the leaves spreading over his shoulders with the names of their children in them. A trio of moons along his collar bone, a chain of flowers around his ankle, her name across his heart with a blue dragon curled around it. A series of runes he called a ‘futhark’ that ran from the hollow of his throat to below his belly in a rainbow of colors. But this one… this one she did not like: a simple line of red script. ‘We do as we must’, a worthy thought at most instances, but one Amelan favored. Damon shuddered as her fingers brushed over the script and his fingers tightened in her skirts. 

“What do I do, Kadan? I got lost. I went too far.” 

He had not asked her for direction in… a very long time. She covered the red script with her hand, squeezing the back of his neck harshly until he let out a relieved gasp. “You fix it.” 

He was quiet beneath her touch for a long moment before she felt the skin beneath her fingers heat unnaturally. She pulled her hand away and was shocked to see the letters of the script had disappeared. He sat up slowly, but did not look her in the eye. “Okay.”

“How will you fix it?” She asked keeping her tone authoritative, but her Heart leaped in relief. This was Damon. Her Damon. And oh, how she had missed him!

He closed his eyes, thinking, before hunching over and clasping his left wrist. “I’ll start sending them back. The older ones first. The ones that have been here longest. Then the rest. Few at a time so it doesn’t start a panic.” 

Cassandra wanted to cry in relief, scream for joy. But she carefully, reached out and pressed her hand flat against his cheek and he sighed and leaned into her touch. “ _ Damon _ .” 

That name… his name seemed to break him… chipping the last bit of the hold Amalen had away from him, away from her love. He leaned forward and dropped his head into her lap once more as sobs tore through him and he murmured broken apologies.

  
  
  


Bull was… okay, he was a little unsettled. He had been invited to ‘run with the pack’, something that he hadn’t been included in since… since Amelan. But Damon, Damon, not Amelan, had stiffly, uncertainly asked him if he wanted to join them on their full moon run, as if he wasn’t sure that Bull would want to. But of course he wanted to. His knee might be bad and he might not be as fast as the wolves, but he kept up with Ash and Loghain and running in the moonlight with the flash of teeth and the howls and the pump of blood… he had missed it. 

He waited with the Littles and Loghain in the valley, beneath Lil’Bit’s tree. Ash wasn’t here yet, but Danielle was. He waved and she gave him a sharp smile before her magic flared and in her place was a lanky, young looking red wolf. 

“Well, damn! Look at you!” He grinned proudly at her, then winced when Gaelathe punched his thigh for swearing in front of them. 

Danielle practically preened, prancing around and showing off her wolf form before her ears swivelled forward, and then she took off. She must hear the pack. Ant wiggled in his arms. “I wanna be a woof!”

“Few more years, Ant. Gotta let your magic settle.” Bull repeated the mantra that he had to say to all of the Littles, over and over. He heard a quiet, Orlesian curse and peered through the darkness to see Ash approaching with… oh shit. With Pebble and Rain. Amelan would not be happy. But it was probably exactly what Damon needed.

Pebble sighed and looked up at him as they drew near enough for a human to see through the darkness. He heard her mutter ‘damn he’s big’ before she spoke up bravely. “Hello, Ser Bull. Would you perhaps explain why we are here? Ash says we are to ‘run with the pack’ but will not explain further.” 

Loghain ran a hand over his face with a sigh and Bull couldn’t help a grin as he heard a thunder of paws approaching. He wanted to see her reaction “You’ll see. Just a moment.” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes, and then let out a hiss of surprise and hauled Rain behind her back protectively as the Pack charged towards them, six full grown wolves with their mouths open and teeth glinting in the moonlight. Fen’Harel and Amelan were there, a massive white wolf and an even bigger black wolf running side by side. The real wolves were following Amelan, and Danielle was bounding alongside Amelan, looking small next to him despite her being the same size of Damon’s wolves. 

Pebble shakily stood her ground, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, but she stood her ground. Bull set Ant onto the ground and the Littles charged at the pack, ruffling ears and scratching backs and chattering excitedly. Pebble looked between the kids, and the wolves, and Ash, before setting her jaw and stepping forward, holding her hand out to the massive black wolf that was Amelan as one would to a dog. 

And the wolf… Damon. Damon laid his ears back and ducked his head so Pebble could scratch at his head. What? The white wolf snorted but held carefully still when Pebble reached for him, her eyes shining in awe as she pet the thick white fur at the side of his neck. Fen’Harel would never let a child touch him, but Solas… Solas would. 

“They’re beautiful…” She breathed. “Rain, look!”

Rain poked her head around Pebble’s shoulder and shyly held a hand out to- to  _ Damon _ , making a shocked, pleased sound when he ducked again so she could run her fingers through the fur on the side of his head. Danielle wiggled out from under the twins and shook her fur out, then lifted her head and howled, the sound echoing through the valley, growing in intensity as the others joined in till the sound was deafening. Bull grinned at Pebble’s expression before howling himself. 

Damon huffed before he laid down in front of the littles. Gaelathe, Legs, and Ant clambered onto his back and Solas made a grumbling, chuffing noise before laying down so the Twins could climb onto him. Danielle walked to Rain, looking her up and down as if weighing her in her mind before slowly laying down in offer. 

Rain looked over at Pebbles uncertainly. Pebbles looked at the Littles before nodding and smiling. “It’s alright.”

Rain let out an excited squeak and carefully climbed onto Danielle’s back, digging her fingers into the thick ruff of fur on the back of her neck, her eyes wide and delighted. Another howl, and then they were off, Ash grabbing Pebble’s hand as they started the Moon Run,  _ Damon _ and  _ Solas _ leading their family. New and old.

It was good to have them back, for however long that was.

  
  
  
  


Rain was bored, and Rochelle was at a loss at how to entertain her, they couldn’t run with the wolves every night. Rain was younger than she, and Rochelle… wasn’t sure how to play with another child. Her ‘play dates’ with other noble children had been simple tea parties or walks around whoever’s manor grounds. Perhaps… perhaps the ‘Littles’ would know how to entertain an eight year old girl. “Let’s go find the Littles. They might have something fun to do.” 

Rain smiled at her shyly and nodded. “That would be nice.” The charms were amazing and very, very helpful. Rain was still trying to learn common with other people, but being able to speak directly with her was… nice. It was very nice. 

With that decided, they headed off to try and track down the ever active Littles. They weren’t in their usual haunts, and Rochelle was about to give up when Rain tilted her head, then hesitantly said. “I think… I think I can sense them? There’s magic, there.” She pointed to a closed door. 

Rochelle smiled. “You’re are getting very good at that.” The head mage had said to encourage her growth, every accomplishment with magic, to help counteract the violent past she had with it. 

Rain blushed and ducked her head with a smile as they went through the door. The Littles were there, Gealathe and Emmaera laying on the floor over a pile of books, and Leggy and Isy playing skip rope. The game looked very active, and they were chanting some rhyme Rochelle had never heard before about something called a ‘fae’. 

Rain glanced at her for permission, and at her nod, went to join in the game. Rochelle went to sit by the quieter of the Littles. “Hello. May I join you?”

Emy nodded and shrugged. “It’s just family stuff, I don’t know if you’d care though.”

Rochelle looked over at Rain, who was getting a crash course on skip roping. “I’m probably going to be here a bit… it could pass the time… if you don’t mind?”

Gaelathe nudged a book towards her. “Our mamae apparently hid these for us to find. It’s full of family history and legends, but most of it is in elvhen. There is what we have translated.” 

Rochelle raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Aren’t you... “

“Seven. Yes.” Gaelathe said absently as he wrote something down. “Ive’eolas…foreknowledge, or understanding... but foreknowledge is the most likely.”

She opened the book to find his scratchy handwriting filling the pages, the first of which happened to be the rhyme they used for skip rope. “What is a fae?”

“It’s a kind of spirit or elf, but powerful and tricky, they steal children and play tricks and they can’t lie, but they lay traps in their words.” Emy said. “Family legend says we have fae blood.” 

Rochelle had to bite her lip to keep from laughing… stealing children… yes, at least Amelan fit one of those descriptions.

“You do, Emy. I am what Mamae called a-“ he flipped open another notebook before nodding. “‘blue branch’, so I don’t have fae blood. I’m what Papa would call a ‘changeling’.” Gaelathe said. “Oh, golden branch, that makes sense.” He scribbled out something. “Blood was mentioned directly before a golden branch, it must be a ritual, or a specific event. More likely a ritual, as Athlan can mean call or summon.” 

“What is a blue branch and golden branch?”

“Family records.” Emy said. “Blue means adopted and Gold means blood related. Gaelathe is trying to translate an ancient elvhen prophecy that mamae left in one of her books. Ant, Isy, and me are the last of the golden branch.”

Gealathe hummed before snatching up another book, flipping through it. “Huh… summon home or heart at last.” He then tapped the paper with his thumb as he thought… “the bit between doesn’t make much sense. I’ll have to work harder on my elvhen with Babae.”

Rochelle traced a line up a family tree and raised her eyebrows as she realized the paper folded out, and out, and out. “Merde, you have… extensive records. The Pentaghasts would be amazed.”

Gaelathe and Emy both laughed. “Oh, they are.” Emy reached over and tapped at the bottom of one of the golden branches. There, right above Ant’s name, which had been scratched in a childish hand, and next to a ‘Damon’, was a Cassandra Pentaghast.

“Woah.” They were related to Nevarran royalty, but the part that held their interest was the pair of golden lines that ran all the way up to a rather ordinary ‘Elizabeth’ and ‘Del’. “So who was the supposed fae?”

“Papa says that it was probably Elizabeth’s mother, supposedly the women in the family are known to have the ‘Sight’ or other magical abilities.” Gaelathe murmured.

“But Mamae’s journal says that it was more likely Del, as he has no family history like Elizabeth does, and the golden line starts with him instead of Beth’s ancestors.” Emy pointed out quietly. 

“What do you do with a Golden Fae?” Isy chanted as she and Leggy spun the rope for Rain to skip over. “The elder kind, eyes bright as day.” 

Rochelle watched them thoughtfully before looking back at Gaelathe and Emy. “Amelan’s eyes glow gold.”

Gaelathe made a tight, grim smile. “He’s more fae than most, I would suspect. He almost forgot his true name.”

“Amelan is his name too.” Emy said quietly.

“It’s a name that’s true, but not his true name.”

Rochelle frowned, slightly confused at their conversation. “What happened to your mamae? Ash talks about her a lot but I’ve never seen her… and you said she hid these for you?”

“Mama says the Maker called her back to his side.” Emy said quietly. “Papa said she had to go back to where her body was tied, her blood was linked to something else, something that he had been cut off from. Babae… he won’t talk about it. Hurts too much.”

Gaelathe looked at the ceiling pensively. “I… remember her a little. She sang. But she was taken when she fixed the sky, and Babae and Papa are waiting for her to come back.” 

Emy sighed and fingered the pages of one of the books. “When she comes back I won’t know her. Babae locked her things and drawings away. I think she knew he would, because she hid these in the nursery wall. Papa says she was always changing things, making things happen.”

Rochelle’s heart broke for the girl. The rumor was the Herald of Andraste was taken back to the Maker’s side for her service, but Father had said he believed that she had just died when she sealed the breach. She was about to say something to try and comfort the girl when Gaelathe made a gasping sound. “That’s it!” He started scribbling more in another notebook. “Person who changes much! Blood of three, the golden branch! Emy! It’s a ritual to bring Mamae back!” 

Emy reached over and snagged the book from his hand her brow furrowed in concentration that didn’t look like it belonged on a six year old. “Melana sulahn’or bel’elgar ane’sulahn. Seal’Babae itha’fel’ala. Is’or Huarasha’dhala thaneras. I’isa falon’saota, derem i ive’eolas. Lin’or’tan. Haura’sha lavar. Athlan Alin’mah’hima Vhenas fel’ala.” she looked up at Gealathe. “Should we show Babae? Or Papa?”

Gaelathe was shaking but he shook his head. “Not- not yet. We- We should find everything needed for the ritual first.”

“Huarasha’dhala?” Isy had dropped the skip rope and was leaning over Emy’s shoulder.

“The first father, the golden fae.” Emy breathed. “It was Del! The last… the last golden branches is us!”

“Uthenera.” Isy sang excitedly as she plopped down beside Emy and looked over her twins shoulder. “When Huarasha’dhala wakes! He’s in the deep sleep and we have to find him and wake him up!” 


	15. Chapter 15

Rochelle sat in her desk and looked around, then looked around again. There were several empty seats. Where was the Ferelden girl? And the Orlesian girl who always looked halfway to sneezing? She frowned and looked at the teacher, but he did not seem concerned at all by the empty seats, did not even mention the missing girls as he began his lecture. Were they sick?

But they stayed on her mind throughout the lessons, and when they were finally dismissed, she stayed behind to speak with him. Ash waited outside for her, as he often did. “Ser?”

The teacher looked up with a smile. “Miss Rochelle. You have impressed me. You are getting excellent marks.”

“Thank you, Ser, but I was wondering, I saw a few of the desks were empty. Are the girls alright?” 

“Yes, they are quite alright, Miss Rochelle.” He seemed unwilling to go into detail, so she gave him a polite curtsey and left. They weren’t sick or hurt, but they still weren’t in class. It was… troubling. For fosters to disappear like that was not a good thing. Had their parents misstepped…? Surely Amelan wouldn’t End a fostering like that? Would he? But the teacher had said they were alright, so he mustn't have. 

Ash bumped her shoulder, “ **You alright?** ”

She nodded. “Yes, just… concerned.” She hesitated, then asked. “Do you know… if your…” She glanced around to make sure they were alone before whispering. “If Amelan would end a fostering?” 

“ **Like give them back** ?” 

“No, like…  _ end _ .” 

Ash’s eyes widened in horror and he shook his head. “ **NO** !”

She let out a relieved breath. “Good. Thank you. I’m going to go get Rain, meet you at the tree?” 

He nodded and gave her one last lingering, concerned look before they split ways, her to collect Rain from her lower class, and Ash to the tree. She had barely made it around the corner of the hallway before a dark haired elf that looked… very familiar, suddenly approached her with two guards at his heel. “Miss Rochelle, would you please come with us?” 

She stepped back warily and the dark haired elf sighed irritably and made a hand signal. She turned to run but hands caught her arms and when she tried to scream, hoping Ash wasn’t too far away, the dark haired elf flicked his hand and she felt magic settle around her and suddenly her voice sounded muffled. The dark haired elf shook his head and muttered in elvhen and then she was being dragged away even though she dug her heels in and tried to kick or bite or  _ anything _ . She landed a punch to one of the guard’s kidneys but they only strengthened their hold on her and her knuckles throbbed from hitting their armor. 

Where were they taking her? Where was Rain? What was Amelan doing with the fosterlings? She felt like crying as the guards bodily dragged her down the hallways, and her stomach flipped when they hauled her into a room with a large mirror. She looked frantically around and froze when she saw Rain sitting on a trunk. Rain jumped up, her magic gathering in her hands, and the dark haired elf raised his hands peaceably and spoke in Qunlat. 

The guards released her abruptly and she staggered before whirling on them. “What is the meaning of this!” Her words still felt muffled and the dark haired elf spoke again to Rain, who nodded once, before he removed the magic he had put on her. She glared and tried again. “What is going on?” 

“You are being returned home, Miss Rochelle. As per your many… demands.”

“But Rain-!”

“Is your legally recognized ward and will be travelling with you.” 

“And you had to  _ drag _ me here? You couldn’t just say that?” She felt angry and confused and- Ash! Ash was waiting for her and she hadn’t been able to give Gaelathe that book of elvhen poetry and-

“You have a reputation of ‘bite first talk later’, Miss Rochelle.” The elf said dryly. “Now, can I please send the two of you home and allow my soldiers a breath of relief that they will not be assaulted by a tiny noble child?” 

“But-“ she looked over at Rain and then back at the door. She wanted to go… had wanted to go but… she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye. But then again… what if Amalen changed his mind?

The elf seemed to take her confused silence as acceptance because he whispered something to the mirror and then picked up the trunk and stepped through. The guards eyed her uneasily. “If you would step through, Miss?” 

Rain grasped her hand and Rochelle squeezed it reassuringly. “I… we will be alright. We’re going to my home.” The words felt… wrong, but Rochelle adjusted her posture properly and took a deep breath before stepping through the mirror. It… wasn’t as horrible as she remembered. The lights were still too bright and there were no colors and she felt heavy, but it wasn’t as bad as she remembered. Was it because of Tree Time with Ash? Ash… who was waiting for her. She turned to go back, to demand to say goodbye, but the guards stepped through after her and the mirror they stepped through sealed. 

  
  


Ash waited, and waited, and then went looking. It wasn’t like Rochelle to forget or be late… she never missed tree time. Her room was empty, and that didn’t mean she just wasn’t in it, it meant her stuff was gone, the beds were bare, and her trunk was gone. Rain’s too. 

She was gone.

She had said girls were missing.

She had asked if Papa would kill fosters.

He didn’t stop to think. He had to see Papa. Now.

He ran to the study and didn’t stop to knock before bursting in. Papa and Babae both startled and looked up and he felt his hands shaking as he asked. “ **Where is she? What did you do with her** ?” 

Papa started in confusion. “Ash… where’s who?”

“ _ Rochelle! _ ” He tried to shout but it wasn’t more than a rough whisper and Rochelle was gone. “ **Fosters** .  **Gone.** ”

Babae blinked before sighing and leaning back in his seat. “Oh. She is probably halfway home by now. She was next on the list of fosters being sent home.” 

Ash froze. They sent her home. She said she wanted to go home, and he knew she would escape eventually but… But he hadn’t even...

Papa frowned. “Didn’t Banal’ras tell you? He was going to collect her after classes and you are in the same class.” 

Ash shook his head slowly. “ **She went to get Rain… meet me for tree time. She never showed up.** ”

“Shoot.” Papa looked upset, but resigned. “I’m sorry kiddo. We have to get them out of the castle quickly before the other fosters notice and panic.”

Babae stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You can write her…I will see that it is delivered quickly.” 

Ash nodded. “ **I… I am going to go write.** ” He turned and left the study, feeling stunned and angry and numb. 

He wrote a letter, like he said he would, saying that he was sorry he didn’t have the chance to say goodbye and he hoped they would see each other again, and she was always welcome in Fenvhenan, and he would miss her. He left it on Babae’s desk to send, and went to his room. He didn’t quite realize what he was doing until he shoved his dagger onto his belt and put his pack on his shoulder and- Oh. That’s what he was doing. Okay. 

Time to find Rochelle. 


	16. Chapter 16

Rochelle was… uncomfortable. The dark haired elf had spoken about something official sounding and then had left. Father had greeted her stiffly and formally, Mother had looked like she wanted to cry, but… the first thing she said after a quick hug was:

“Oh, my dear. Did they not allow you a training corset? Your figure…”

Rochelle looked down at herself. She was wearing her tunic and leggings because that was what she had been wearing to classes, and her figure was… fine? She didn’t have the tiny waist Mother did, but she was twelve and had worked really, really hard with Ash for the muscles on her stomach. 

“What is that?” Father said and Rochelle looked up to see him pointing at Rain.

“This is Rain. She’s my ward.” Rochelle said holding her hand out for Rain to take.

“Your ward?” Mother sounded… amused. 

“Yes. I claimed her as my ward in Fenvhenan and Amalen recognized my claim.” 

“Oh. How nice. Did they give all of the fosters a… whatever that is, to care for?”

Rochelle frowned at Mothers words. “Her name is Rain.”

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Father sounded slightly disgusted.

“Nothing. Because she’s with me.” Rochelle straightened her spine and lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “She is Rain, and she is with me.” 

Father looked like he wanted to argue, but Mother touched his arm. “Let her have the pet, dear. She’s been through a lot.” 

“She’s not a pet! She’s my ward and my friend!” Rochelle felt a faint flare of fear at having said that, what if Father had her whipped again? But she had faced down much scarier people than Father and had won and she refused to back down now. 

Father’s eyes narrowed before he turned and walked away without a word. Rochelle felt her stomach drop. Had they always been like this? She remembered… she shook her head, they just needed to get used to each other again.

“Well.” Mother sighed. “Let’s get you dressed properly.” She took her hand and then let out a horrified noise. “Your hands! What have they done to you!” 

Rochelle pulled her hand back and looked at the calluses she had earned from rope climbing and training and exercise. They weren’t… lady like, but she had earned them! “I earned those!” 

Mother looked absolutely horrified before she made a noise in her throat. “We’ll need to spend some time in the spa to undo the damage. A Lady’s hands should always be soft and unmarred.”

“But… they’ll just come back next time I train.” The first few weeks of training had been painful until the blisters had hardened into callus. 

“What kind of training involved destroying your hands so? They obviously were not training you properly, you’ve lost your elegant walk. You walk almost like a man!” 

“Daggers and swords and I don’t walk like a man! I walk like me! I have to keep my weight distributed so I can kick if I need to!” Why was she so angry? Why did she want to stomp her foot and cry? She was home… and Rain was clutching the back of her shirt and Mother was… 

“You’ll never catch a man’s eye like that! How are you supposed to marry up if you have commoners hands and a man’s walk?” Mother sniffed as she began to walk towards the house.

“Ser Bull says I’m amazing, and Ash says I’m amazing, and Amelan thought I was good enough to eat at his family’s table!” She did stomp her foot. “He even let me Run with the Moon with his wolves and children!” She argued… she was good enough… she didn’t have to… didn’t want to… “I don’t  _ want  _ to marry up!” 

“Well, you can hardly marry down.” Mother sighed. “Come dear, let’s get you cleaned up, we can discuss this later. I’m sure you have had an exhausting time away from home. Will you feel up to resuming your lessons tomorrow? I’m sure they’ve neglected your education as well as your figure and etiquette.” 

Rochelle seethed inwardly. “I had lessons each day.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Mother sighed, then murmured. “Wolves and ox girls… oh dear.” 

Rochelle was stuffed into a dress, tightly laced into a training corset until her ribs hurt, but the second the servant, a human servant, left the room, she asked Rain to loosen it until she could breath and move. A pallet was put in the maid’s closet for Rain and Rochelle felt angry they would put her ward there. “It’s okay, Rain, you can just share the bed with me until we get something better for you.” 

The dress that was laid out for Rain was… a servant’s dress. Rochelle growled and opened her closet… Rain was almost her height so her dresses wouldn’t be too long but she had filled out, wasn’t as thin so they would be a little snug. But Rain was her ward, and she was not to be dressed as a servant when they were somewhere things like that mattered. She helped Rain dress, and took her hand and walked proudly out when a servant, another human, said that supper was ready. 

Rochelle hadn’t seen this many humans in one place in… a very long time. She followed to the dinner table and couldn’t help a nose wrinkle at the formal setting. She liked having lunch under the tree with Ash and the private dinners where something was almost always thrown by one of the Littles and Danielle would make little shapes out of ice for their drinks with her magic. There were only three places, and Father wasn’t here yet. Rochelle pointedly sat at Father’s place and sat Rain down in her spot. 

Mother’s face tightened. “Darling, I don’t think your… ‘Rain’ should be at the table. And you are in the wrong seat.”

Rochelle stared at her impassively, trying to mimic Fen’Harel’s bland, cold expression. “Rain is my ward. She sits with me. Have another chair brought in if you wish me to move.” 

“Dear, I don’t think your father-”

“I don’t give a shit what Father thinks.” Rochelle snapped. “Rain is my ward, and she sits with me.” 

Her mother looked… shocked. Terrified. Unnerved by her words and tone, “darling yo-“

“What is the meaning of this, Rochelle?’

Rochelle wanted to flinch at Father’s tone, but… she also didn’t want to. He was just… a man, and not even as big as Amalen… and she had stared _ him _ down… more than once. “Whoever set the table forgot to include a place for my ward.”

“We’re not having an ox at the table. It’s bad enough it’s in the house.” Her father's face was red with anger.

“Her name is Rain, and she is my  _ ward _ .” Rochelle hissed and stood up, clenching her fists by her side and raising her chin. “You will speak of her with the  _ respect _ due to a ward of the house Gasqueux!” 

“It’s an animal and you-” Father reached for her arm, only to be thrown back by a flash of magic. Rain’s magic. Rain was holding a barrier over both of them, her hands shaking and her eyes wide.

“Thank you, Rain. That is a very strong barrier. Good job.” Rochelle gave her friend a smile before turning back to her Father, who had gone very pale and was clutching the sword on his hip. Father, who called her friend an ox and had whipped her for being friendly to an elf. Father, who was a chevalier, and Amelan had said he had taken the fosters to protect elves and- “Father, I have a question posed to me by the Amelan of Fenvhenan. I had no answer, and I hope you can shed light on the subject.” 

Father’s eyes flicked from her to Rain before he swallowed. “What is it?”

“What is the initiation rite for a Chevalier? I’m aware it has something to do with elves.”

“That is not a subject for ladies and children.” His face paled even more and he looked away… he was unable to meet her eyes.

“I don’t care.  _ Father _ . Answer me.”

His jaw clenched, but he stepped back as Rain moved to stand by her shoulder, still holding up the barrier. “We go to the alienage and dispose of any knife ear we find to help keep them from breeding too fast.” 

“I see.” She felt felt her stomach knot in disgust and… anger. “In that case, I believe my ward and I will not be eating at your table.” 

“Rochelle, darling, you are the heir and-” Mother said soothingly.

“Then write to Amelan! His heir likes me at least.” She whirled on her mother. “That is far enough up for you, is it not?” She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, imagining herself being as steady as the Tree. “I will take my leave. Good evening. Monsieur. Madame.” 

She snatched the platter of meat from the table and walked off, Rain following quietly and not dropping the barrier until the door had closed behind them. 

Rochelle was quiet the whole walk back to her room… this… was not the home she remembered. How had it changed so much? Or…. she was the one who had changed…? she no longer belonged… not here.

  
  
  


As had become her habit, she woke with the sun. The maid who came in to wake them was startled to find them both awake and dressed. Rochelle finished applying balm to Rain’s horns and wiped her hands and looked at the maid as she turned to allow Rain to brush out her hair. “I will not be eating with Mother and Father. We will be down in the kitchen momentarily.” 

She managed to avoid Mother and Father, eating in the kitchens and then she and Rain went for a run around the gardens. When they came back inside with the intent of trying to figure out how to use Rain’s magic to fill a tub for them, Mother stepped out of a doorway with her hands folded primly in front of her. “Rochelle. We have rehired your tutor.”

“I need a bath, and then I’ll come by for lessons.” 

Mother looked relieved. “Thank you. I’ll have the servants draw a...” She paused with an uneasy glance at Rain. “Draw two baths.” 

“Thank you.” Rochelle gave a brief curtsey and Mother’s face smoothed into her mask.

Rain and she bathed, and dressed, sending a terrified servant away with the dresses Mother had sent and dressing in their regular Fenvhenanian clothes before going to the study for lessons. Her old tutor was there, and he very, very stiffly greeted Rain properly. They sat down and Rochelle looked over the book he had given her before handing it to Rain. It was one of the readers for the lower classes. “I think you were on chapter four, Rain. Let me know if you need help with a word.” She looked back at her tutor expectantly, waiting for her lessons. 

“Uh, Lady Rochelle, do you not want to have lessons today?”

“I would like lessons, ser. That was for Rain, was it not? I already finished that level months ago in my spare time.” She frowned then her eyes widened as she realized that the lessons in Fenvhenan had been so hard at first, so advanced. “Oh. I’m afraid I’ve advanced quite far in my education during my absence. Do you have a placement test I could take?” 

“I… do not.” He looked increasingly uncomfortable. “What… did you study?”

“Sciences, literature, mathematics, history, and magical theory during my main courses, and in my free time I also studied sign language, Qunlat, elvhen, ‘martial arts’, and Wilderness Skills.” She ticked off everything on her fingers before remembering. “Oh, I have my notebook in my chest. I can let you look through it and see my notes if you want.”

“That… would be very helpful.” The tutor sounded faint.

“Will you be alright for a minute, Rain? I’m going to fetch my notebook. If you feel scared just use a barrier. You’re very good at them.”

Rain nodded with a pleased smile and looked down at the book in concentration.

Rochelle hurried to her room and dug out her notebooks and started to hurry back. She paused when she heard father’s angry voice. “Listen to this! ‘I miss you already and I am going to beg you to write back as soon as possible. Supper will not feel the same without you here beside me’, the ox is besotted!”

“That cannot be a bad thing, surely?” Mother said hesitantly. “The Heir of Fenvhenan…” 

“Amelan is an ox! His son is an ox! You can’t expect me to let them have our daughter!” 

“Maybe it’s just a friendly-”

“No. Just- just read it! Look, ‘I could not have claimed a better person to know, even if you are Orlesian’. That is not a friendly intent.” 

Ash! Ash had written to her! She burst into Father’s study and her parents startled. “Why was my letter not delivered to me?”

“You are a child still, it is my right as your father to-” 

“Give. Me. My. Letter.” She said between her teeth. Father’s eyes widened and on impulse she mimicked Ash and bared her teeth. “Please.” 

Her mother looked between them warily before quietly taking the open letter from Father’s hand and passing it to her. “You… made friends while you were gone… dear?”

“Yes. Ash, Danielle, Gaelathe, Emmaera, Iselan, Legolas, and Anthony. The children of Fen’Harel and Amelan, as well as Rain.” She tucked the letter into her pocket, wanting nothing more than to run and go read it that instant. “I ate with them and had classes with Ash, Amelan’s oldest son. He taught me to fight and run and breathe magic.” 

She saw Father and Mother’s eyes meet before Father turned and marched to his desk. Apparently the conversation was over. “You might need to hire a more advanced tutor for me, Mother. I’m afraid I’ve learned quite a bit in my absence.” 

Mother nodded, her voice quiet and strained. “Indeed.” 

Rochelle left the study, Ash’s letter in her pocket, and hurried back to Rain. The tutor was staring at her openly, but Rain was just frowning at a page and carefully writing out a word. She looked up when Rochelle came in and smiled. “I have words I don't know. I wrote them down.”

“Excellent.” Rochelle gave her notebook to the tutor to read through and settled down beside Rain to help her translate the words, and then to open and read Ash’s letter. It was slightly crumpled from where Father had clutched it, but still legible. She felt homesick as she read through it. He missed her, he hadn’t known she was going home and was sad they didn't get to say goodbye. He asked her to write, and he missed her.

They ate lunch in the kitchens again, and she suddenly felt quite like crying as she realized that there would be no tree time today, and no Abelas for training. But she knew her drills. She slipped a kitchen knife into the waist of her leggings and was going to head back to the gardens to go through the drills when one of the servants nervously approached. “Miss Rochelle, The Master would… ask you to dress and meet him in the parlor for tea.” 

Rochelle narrowed her eyes and the maid hastily added. “Of course your ward is invited as well, a dress has been provided for her.”

“A dress befitting my ward? Not a servant’s dress?” 

The maid’s eyes widened and she curtseyed. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Thank you. Inform Father I will meet him for tea.” He was being oddly agreeable all of a sudden. Something was going on. 

She allowed the maid to help dress her, but was adamant she not lace the corset so tightly on either her or Rain. She was a little surprised at how… frightened the servants seemed of her all of a sudden. Was it because she shouted at Father? She slipped the kitchen knife into her skirts and went to the parlor and when she entered, she was surprised to see several noble families. Lesser nobles, all of them with more than one son. “Father? What is this?”

Mother spoke up from where she was sitting next to a noble son about Danielle’s age. “Tea, Darling.” She turned to the people sitting next to her. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s been fostered by wolves for almost a year now.” 

Rochelle narrowed her eyes but took a seat on the smaller sofa, patting the empty space next to her for Rain. Rain looked frightened and she took her hand comfortingly as a servant began serving tea. She looked around the group, who were torn between staring at Rain and eyeing her. She felt… like she was on display. She pointedly ignored Father and gave clipped, but polite answers to anything the nobles said to her, and Mother’s eyes tightened the longer the tea dragged on.

A few of the families finally excused themselves, but the one sitting next to Mother… the son was staring at her and it made her want to bare her teeth and growl like Ash and the twins did when they were startled. She dragged her attention away from the boy and focused on what his father and her own were saying, and then felt her blood freeze as she realized they were discussing a betrothal. 

“No!” she jumped to her feet and Rain scrambled up beside her. “Father! No!”

“She is feisty, as you said.” The noble laughed.

“She’ll make strong sons.” the boy said with a smile she didn’t like…

“Yes. She will.” Father said tightly. “We can go to my study and draw out a contract.” 

The boy reached for her hand and Rochelle moved before she thought, the drills with Ash moving her muscles before her mind had caught up and she drew the knife from her skirts and had it at his gut before he could blink. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” She snarled, baring her teeth like she wanted to. 

“Rochelle!?” Her mother cried in disbelief and shock.

“I am not a helpless toy to be traded off for your benefit.” She said sharply. The noble boy scoffed and reached for the knife and she used her other hand to chop at the joint of his elbow and jabbed him sharply with the knife, cutting the fabric of his doublet. A warning. “ _ You  _ will not touch me. Rain, would you be a dear and put up a barrier? I want to go to our room.” 

Rain obliged and the nobles stepped back in fear as the magic shimmered into place. Rochelle cautiously pulled the knife away from the boy and looked at Father. “I will not honor whatever contract you draw up.”

“You will.” Father said sharply.

She turned on her heel and took Rain’s hand and left the parlor, the knife still clutched in her hand. Servants scurried out of her path and she did not care as she slammed the door to her room and looked at Rain in numb horror. A marriage contract. They were going to marry her off. She was only a month away from being legally of age to marry. They would force her to marry, drug her food, magic. Anything. She… She had to get away. She had to go home. Fenvhenan. Child marriages and marriage contracts were not accepted there.

“We have to go back.” she whispered. “I… we need to go to MoonCall.” 

Rain nodded eagerly. “I don’t like it here.” 


	17. Chapter 17

It… was laughably easy to run away from the manor. It had been simple to sneak into the kitchen and steal food and another knife, and sneak back and pack up their things. The servants were asleep, and there were no guards inside, and the doors were not magically sealed. She even managed to break into Father’s study and destroy his copy of the contract and take his precious Chevalier’s ring. Maybe she could sell it and give the money to an alienage or something. She would likely be disowned as his heir as soon as mother got off her powders, but she couldn’t bring herself to care beyond hoping that maybe Mother had been on them too long and wouldn’t be able to have another child. 

The stables were quiet and Rochelle picked out one of the carriage horses, large and calm. She didn’t know how to saddle a horse, but running with the wolves made her confident she could ride one without. It was actually easier, the beast less prone to sudden leaps and turns and moved at a much slower pace than a Moon Run. 

And then she and Rain were on the road, and… that was it. She grumbled as they rode towards the nearest town, hoping to meet up with a mage cluster or perhaps, if they were lucky, a caravan to MoonCall. “No wonder Fenvhenan had so many fosters. Security is terrible.” 

Rain snickered and rested her chin on her shoulder, her arms tight around her waist. “That was so much easier than taking pies from Ilaan’s kitchens.”

Rochelle laughed at the thought of the head cook, then felt unease in her stomach. “Do- do you think they’ll take us back?”

“I think you just have to shout a bit and they will. You’re very good at getting your way.” Rain said shyly. 

She snorted. “‘More guts than brains’ Ash would probably say.”

“Strength. The Iron Bull says you are… A Stone Against the Tide.”

“Ser Bull also calls me ‘Pebble’, pebbles are small, little irritants.”

“You are rather short.” Rain chuckled. 

Rochelle huffed and guided the horse off to the side of the path wanting to be able to get out of sight it they saw anyone coming down the road. “I am not short! I’m twelve!”

“So is Ash and he’s head and shoulders taller.” 

“That’s because his mother just chiseled him off of a mountain and called it a baby.” Rochelle muttered. 

Rain tilted her head and then pointed. “We should go that way.” She hesitated. “I think? It… feels itchy.” 

It was vaguely in the direction of the town nearby, and ‘itchy’ normally meant Rain felt magic being cast, so perhaps it was mages travelling to MoonCall. “Alright.” She angled the horse in the direction Rain was pointing in and she felt Rain relax at her easy acceptance of her magical sense.

The sun was beginning to rise and Rochelle felt exhausted as she began to search for a spot to hide and rest for a bit. She kept having to pinch Rain’s leg to keep her awake and from falling off of the horse. Suddenly the horse snorted and threw up it’s head and Rochelle looked around nervously for what had spooked it even as she tried to calm it. She put her hand on the kitchen knife at her belt just as a large, red wolf appeared from the underbrush. 

They stared at each other for a moment. 

“Danielle?”

Magic flared and Danielle stumbled a bit before breaking into a grin. “There you are! Should have expected you to meet us on the way to get you!” 

Rochelle cocked her head. They were coming for her? “Us?

Danielle touched her bracelet, and then seconds later Rochelle heard running from the trees, and Ash burst out with a blinding grin. “ **I knew it** !”

They… Ash and Danielle had been coming for her… Rochelle blinked back tears and slid off of the horse to hug her friend tightly, feeling relief and... “They- They were going to marry me off and they called Rain my pet and they kept putting me in corsets and they were going to marry me off! I want to go home! I want to go back to Fenvhenan!” 

  
  
  
  


Danielle had to sneak them both back into Skyhold. She had felt Ash sneaking off and had followed… purely to make certain he was alright of course. She had just reached the age that Papa said she could take over as an ambassador for Fenvhenan, so of course that also meant she was given the passphrase for the eluvian network. 

Rochelle had spilled out her whole story of her few days back with her parents during their walk to the eluvian. Danielle was impressed and proud that she had kept her spine and had brought herself and Rain out of there. 

She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise up and signalled the trio of kids to halt as she tried to listen. There was a slight breath of movement in front of them and she gathered her magic in readiness. An elf stepped out of the trees with his hands up peaceably.

“Children.” He had purple eyes and Mythal’s vallaslin, and Babae had warned them to not trust him if they ran into him, but Banal’ras had said he worked for the Meddler.

“Felassan.” Danielle said cooly, not releasing the magic pooling in her hands. Ash’s hand was on his knife and he had moved in front of Rochelle and Rain. 

“I just have a few words to say and then I am on my way.” The elf was smiling.

“Then say them.”

“The dwarves dug deep and found much gold.”

Danielle blinked, then frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The elf shrugged. “How am I to know? I am just a meddlesome messenger. I was to say the words to the children of Leal’sa and Fen’Harel, and you are the only ones I have seen. If they don’t mean anything to you, they might mean something to the others. I would appreciate it if you passed them on.”

“Oh.” Rochelle breathed in realization. “Danielle, I-”

“Shush. Not in front of him.” The message must be for the Twins then, and would reach them whether Babae wanted it to or not.

Felassan bowed and grinned. “Message delivered then, I will be off.” He kept his hands visible as he backed up and left. 

Danielle kept her magic ready until she sensed he was far enough away. “Come on. If he’s around there’s trouble.”

“Who is he?” Rochelle asked. 

“One of the Meddler’s, I think.” Danielle answered, eyeing their surroundings warily. This whole thing smelled like ‘trap’. “Let’s get inside the barrier as soon as possible.

Ash nodded and they started forward again. A half mile and then another disturbance in the forest had them readying weapons and magic, but it was just Papa, thundering towards them in his wolf form. He shifted and Danielle heard Rochelle gasp in shock as he stumbled towards them, his magic flaring in fear.

“Kids! Are you okay? Why-” He paused as he noticed Rochelle. “Oh.” He looked frozen, and Danielle was about to explain, to smooth things over, when Rochelle straightened her spine and lifted her chin. 

“Amelan. I think you need to send people to check on all of the returned fosters to make sure they are alright and not being forced into contracts.”

“That’s already being done.” Papa said softly, still not moving. “We’ve brought three back already at their request.” 

“I took my father’s ring. I want to sell it and donate the money to help elves escape the alienages.” Rochelle demanded.

“Alright.”

“I want to become a citizen of Fenvhenan, or if that is not allowed, to claim sanctuary in its borders.”

“Alright.” Papa’s eyes had begun to tear up.

Rochelle opened her mouth, and then closed it with a shrug. “I feel like I should keep demanding things while you’re being agreeable but I just want to go home.”

“Home?” 

“To Fenvhenan. I’m afraid I’m much too… wolf like to live in Orlais.” Rochelle said wryly. 

Papa stepped forward and Danielle had to suppress a laugh at Rochelle’s shocked expression when he gathered the Orlesian girl up into a hug, one of his big hugs that lifted your feet off of the ground. 

“I was so worried.” 

Rochelle looked down over Papa’s shoulder at Ash and mouthed ‘help?’ Ash just shook his head and grinned. There was no escaping one of Papa’s hugs.

  
  
  
  


“So. What did he say?” Papa asked casually. Too casually, as they made their way back to Fenvhenan.

Ash blinked innocently, as he always did when he wasn’t sure if he was about to be in trouble or not, but Danielle laid it out. “I’m assuming you mean Felassan? He showed up, said he had a message for the children of Leal’sa and Fen’Harel. ‘The dwarves dug deep and found much gold’. Then he left.”

“Shoot.” Papa sighed. “Solas is gonna kill him.” He set his jaw, and then unclenched it and shook his head. “Fuck. I can’t let him do that.” 

Rochelle glanced between them before speaking. “Something went wrong.”

“Yeah. You were supposed to be picked up after classes, have a nice talk with Ash, Banal’ras, and Abelas about how to reach us for help and coming back if you wanted, and given a distress rune that would have had people at your side to help in seconds if things went bad with your parents, which, since I found y’all traipsing around in a forest with a stolen horse, did. You were even supposed to have an ‘aid’ to make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

Ash glanced at Rochelle and Rain uneasily. They should have had more help. “ **What happened** ?”

Papa hesitated, but Danielle set her jaw. “Banal’ras. He serves the Meddler, and the Meddler had a message for us.”

Papa ran a hand over his face and pulled a bush aside to reveal a cave entrance. “And by the time we found a very grumpy Abelas in a closet and I realized that Pebble had been bounced, two of my kids were gone. So that was a nice heart attack. I don’t know how many more of those I can survive, kiddos.” 

Rochelle seemed to turn that over in her mind, and Ash watched in fascination, waiting to see what she came up with. “You watch Banal’ras, and Danielle knew Fellassan, so they obviously couldn’t pass messages back and forth directly. He… he waited for Ash to leave before taking me! ‘Reputation for bite first talk later’ my ass! I was used as bait!” She straightened indignantly. 

Ash raised a finger to let her know she really did have that reputation, but Rain pushed his hand down. He hesitated before asking. “ **What did you do with Banal’ras** ?” He liked the ancient elf. He was funny and would sneak them treats and gave them books and taught them to be sneaky. But if he had done this… he couldn’t be trusted. At all. 

Papa looked tired as he led them to the eluvian. “He’s… We don’t know what to do with him. Between you kids and your Mamae… He’s in the dungeons right now.” 

Rochelle suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked extremely worried… “Am-Amelan?”

Papa closed his eyes at the name but turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

Rochelle looked at him and her brow furrowed in worry and concern. “If-If I was ‘bait’ was it just for a message or more?”

Ash was about to tell her that Banal’ras would never risk their safety but… He had, hadn’t he? Suddenly his bracelet started to burn hot at the same instant Danielle hissed and held up her own bracelet. 

“The twins!” 


	18. Chapter 18

He had known! He had known they could not trust him. He should have made him toothless when he found out, but had let sentiment sway him. _She_ had liked him, trusted him, and the children had, and now look where that had brought them. A moment of ill placed trust and half of the children had been lured out, and then the other half had disappeared. 

“Don’t kill the elf.” Amelan muttered as he sent searching tendrils of magic through the path ahead, trying to make sense of the tracking charms through the winding caverns.

He growled. “He has betrayed us… again.” He felt… his children were endangered because of  _ him _ .

“And he’s gonna sit pretty till Em’s here to deal with him herself.” Amelan paused by a small gap in the stone tunnel, searching it with gold eyes before moving on. He stopped in his tracks and came back to the gap. “Something feels weird. My eyes are sliding off of it.” 

Solas allowed his aura out… a dangerous thing these days, he had to keep a tight rein of it especially in his anger. “It’s a ward.” 

“Sweet.” Amelan muttered and knelt in front of the gap. “Don’t notice look away what you need is further down the path don’t notice…” He reached out with a twist of magic, and then stood. “That’s Gaelathe’s.” 

Solas frowned, “Why would he be covering their trail?” He didn’t understand what possessed them to explore the caverns under Skyhold, but the recent expansions had unearthed them. Amelan had sent in a team to be certain it wasn’t a deep roads entrance and there were no signs that they went down that far… they were however vast and it was easy to get lost within their depths… even more so for children… his children.

Amelan turned sideways and squeezed himself through the gap in the stone. “I found a bunch of papers in their room, notes, books, translations. You ever hear the old Dalish prophecy about Tanathe and the First Father? Cuz they spent a lot of effort translating the thing.” 

A clue, something to focus on as he followed Amelan’s sensitive magic. “I’ve heard it, but I did not pay attention enough to memorize it.” 

“Melana sulahn’or bel’elgar ane’sulahn. Seal’Babae itha fel’ala, Is’or Huarasha dhala thaneras, I’isa falon’saota, derem i ive’eolas, Lin’or’tan. Haurasha lavur, Athlan Alin’mah’hima Vhenas fel’ala.” 

Solas had to pull in his aura tightly around himself at the voice of Ash’s friend’s at his elbow. He turned to see the girl, her ‘ward’, Ash, and even Danielle following them. “Pala! We left you in the castle main!” 

“Danielle!” Amelan sounded resigned and irritated. “Really?”

“My siblings are missing.” She paused, before flicking her fingers at Rochelle, Rain and Ash “And I thought it best to accompany these three rather than let them slip away after you by themselves.” 

Rochelle raised her chin and Solas had to look away from the determined tilt that… he ground his teeth. He did not have time for this. 

Rain tilted her head and pointed straight at a wall. “Itches.” 

Amelan looked at the wall, and then raised his eyebrows. “Well shoot, that’s a ward and a half.” He frowned and knelt by it, then blinked. “This is a blood ward, not Gaelathe’s.”

_ Bloodward?  _ “Bloodward?” Rochelle mirrored his thoughts.

“My ma used to make them around the property…” Amelan said distantly. “Keeps the family safe and protected while deterring others. This is old, really, really old…” He blinked and looked at Solas, sending his thought through their link. ( _ This is earth magic.) _

Earth magic? But that would… ( _ Is it possible that you were not the only ones to be brought?) _

( _ possible… but…) _ Amelan stepped into the wall, and then poked his head out. ( _ it’s tied to my family.) _ “C’mon, y’all. Danielle, Ash, you’ll need to lead Rochelle and Rain through. Focus on giving them permission as you step in.” 

His family… their family…  _ her _ family. Solas’ aura suddenly began to ache at the implication and he had to rein it in again. He could not… could not allow it to… not with the children… He shoved his Aura down and smothered it in a spell, but Amelan looked at him… his eyes knowing. He shook his head and stepped into the ward and… immediately felt something in him relax. Home. Safety. A magically induced feeling. 

Amelan watched him carefully. “You feel it?”

The children stepped through after them, Danielle and Ash both relaxed, but Rain and Rochelle both looked uneasy. “I don’t like this place.” Rochelle whispered, her eyes darting around the walls.

“It’s just a blood ward. Danielle, Ash, keep focusing on the fact that you gave them permission to enter.” Amelan said absently as he stared at a set of half open doors that had appeared as the children had crossed the ward line. “Shall we?”

When they stepped through Danielle gasped and Solas once again had to shove his arua down at the surprise… they were no longer in a cave… the floors and walls were tiled in white and black marble, silver flamed torches bathed the massive room in light

In the center was a mausoleum. A familiar thing, a Dreaming Chamber, but Solas could not pay attention to it when there his children were, sitting in front of it, looking scared and staring at… Fenedhis. Ancient skeletons and remains littered about the mausoleum. 

“Gaelathe!” Rochelle called out and stepped forward, only for Ash to catch the back of her shirt and hold her back, his eyes wide and frightened. 

“Kids, stay back. There’s another ward line.” Amelan said grimly as he began edging forwards, sending his magic out tentatively. 

“Papa! Babae!” Gealathe called, his voice worried as the twins held onto each other. “It won’t let us leave.” Solas’ blood ran cold, it wouldn’t let them go... it was insistent they stay.

“Hey, kiddos. Mind telling me why the everloving monkey’s butt you went down here?” Amelan paused and sent him a mental thought. ( _ It’s too… I can’t get a read on it, when I touch it my magic just slides through it like it’s mine. It’s a different kind of blood ward, again, my family. It is calling me. _ )

“Banal’ras found a letter from Mamae a few days ago and we finished translating it while you were gone. Mamae said that the dwarves dug deep to find gold, so we-” Isy hiccuped and hugged her sister. “I’m sorry.” 

He had to chance it. He looked back at Ash and Danielle standing behind him with their hands on Rochelle and Rain. Even as he watched, Ash took a dream like step forward, only for Rochelle to grab his arm. “Stand back, Danielle throw up a barrier, keep everything out, away.”

Danielle, the bright child, did not hesitate. And her barrier flickered into place and Ash suddenly blinked as if waking up and stepped back at Rochelle’s tugging.

“It’s family magic, Papa.” Gaelathe announced. “It’s for us, but we don’t know the key.”

Solas grit his teeth and cautiously, carefully spooled out his magic, allowing himself to see the threads of the world and magic and intent… and oh. His heart clenched painfully, longingly at the silverfiregingerchamomile magic. “I cannot break this.” He shakily clutched at his aura and pulled it back before it could lash out, searching for what was not there. “It-“ he made himself breathe through the pain in his aura, dragging it back, folding it down, locking it away as he forced out the painful words. “It is Ma… Emma’s.”  _ (It is a Dream Chamber.) _

_ (Emma?) _ He felt Amelan’s magic flare in confused pain.

_ (I don’t know.) _ He didn’t dare let his arua out to check… if it wasn’t, it would endanger the children and if it was… he was already volatile. His emotions were running high and he could not risk an outburst.

Before Solas could read the determination in his intent, Amelan stepped over the boundary of the ward line. “Alright kids, tell me what you know.” 

It was Emmaera who held up a slip of paper to him, her face had drying trails of tears. And Solas wanted nothing more than to gather up both of his daughters up and get them away… away from here. Away from the Dream Chamber and the wards that sang to him and trapped his children. 

“What time a song of many spirits before is sung, First father will see the last. Him with golden hair awakes or is alert With his soul’s friend, touched by fore knowledge or understanding. Blood of three, Golden branch, Call or Summon the person who changes much home at last.” Amelan read out loud, then frowned. “Good job translating, but… what is it?”

“We… we think it’s talking about a ritual to bring Mamae back. But, the clues led here but I don’t- I can’t think of the key.” Gaelathe shuddered and hugged Isy. “I’m too scared to think and I know I should be able to figure it out but…” His eyes darted to a nearby skeleton.

There were several… all looked from different ages and different cultures, judging by their armor. One bore the trappings of June, near decayed but still recognizable. 

“Okay. I can work with that.” Amelan muttered, and then began inspecting the mausoleum. He frowned at the door, and began slowly speaking out loud, as if translating. “The first spirit song... of the golden tree? When it is sung… the gold father is free.” His magic flared in confusion. “Why does that rhyme in common? Elvhen poetry never rhymes in common. Coincidence?” 

Emma’s magic was interwoven into the very fabric of this place. Elvhen that rhymed once translated to common… drawing family… his family… their family…  _ Her _ family. Drawing their family to a Dream Chamber guarded by her magic. Solas had to fight to stay upright. His aura was fighting against him. Aching, painful. He could not speak even if he tried.

“It’s a literal song! Golden fae!” Solas turned to look back and see Rochelle stepping forward and Ash pulled her back only for her to shake off his hand. “It’s the song, Gaelathe!”

Gaelathe’s eyes brightened and he opened his mouth, but Amelan slapped a hand over his mouth urgently. “No!” He inhaled sharply. “Sorry, it’s just… you’re my kid, but your blood isn’t…” 

“Gold.” Emy said shakily and Gaelathe nodded in instant understanding. “He’s blue.”

“Lemme see your notes.” Amelan took their notebook and sat down, pouring through the pages with glances up at the mausoleum and the wards.

“Amelan?” Solas knew his voice was strained… raw. But he had to… had to know.

Amelan ran a hand over his face. “Mostly certain the key is the song, and that either whoever is in there has the key to the wards, or the wards will break when the door is opened.” He waved the notebook in defeat. “Your kids are smart.” 

He wanted… wanted to scream… demand that Damon open it… but their children… his daughters… they were too close… could not leave. He listened desperately as Damon thought aloud. "Rule of three is mentioned, as is the golden branch… the wards still recognise my blood so…" he grimaced. "Isy, Emy, you two think you can sing Golden Fae with me? Everyone else… stay absolutely silent."

The twins nodded shakily and Solas gave them both a reassuring nod, even as his aura was screaming in fear… and hope as the three of them started to sing that Song, the song Emma had scoffed at playfully but yet would hum it over the twins’ cribs. Silver magic rose from the ground at their voices, washing over and through them, curious, inspecting, before gathering in front of the door and flaring. The wards disappeared in the flash and those within it relaxed as one. Solas felt the air rush out of him relief as both Emmaera and Iselan ran to him, no longer held in compulsion, and he gathered them both up. 

Damon stood in front of the mausoleum, Gealathe gripping his pant leg, as the doors slowly opened.

  
  
  


Glorfindel felt heavy, as if he was trying to move through water. The air felt stale and colorless and his muscles weak. He forced himself to move, to check on Beth. She was already sitting up, but she was staring at something in terror, her fea panicked and reaching for his in confused horror. He looked where she was and reflexively moved his hand to reach for his dagger at the sight of a massive creature, pitch black with horns, magic shining across its skin as it stared at them through the doors. 

The creature said something in a low tone, and Glorfindel moved cautiously off of the bed to stand as an elf moved to stand by it. The elf was small, but… familiar, though the elf stiffened in obvious fear at the sight of him. Their feas were connected, not bonded, but… linked. The dark creature spoke in a rumbling voice. "Aneth are."

That was Emma's language. A greeting. He struggled to remember the few words of it he knew, but set that aside to ask for her. She had said only her children would be able to wake them. Where were they? "Greetings." He realized he had slipped into his native quenya in his weariness. 

“Quenya?” The creature frowned and touched its chest. "Amelan." It gestured at the elf. "Fen'Harel." It pointed at them in obvious question.

‘Fen’Harel.’ The name nagged at the back of his mind, the first part meant wolf… but he squinted at the smaller elf, absently holding out a hand to Beth who moved behind him.

"Don't give him our names." She whispered in her language. "That's a dark fae."

"He's not a fae." He told her quietly looking around to see his grandson and the dwarf had yet to wake, “He’s an orc.” It had to be… Emma had said they would be different when they woke.

The creature's eyes widened and it wobbled its hand in a gesture he’d seen Emma use from time to time to mean something was complicated or not completely true. "Fae, uh, lin? Tel orc. Ar… gaelic?" The Orc… that’s what it had to be… it looked at the elf, who was still staring at him in suppressed fear, then furrowed its brow and spoke in broken gaelic. "You have name."

Beth began shaking her head frantically beside him and he could feel her fear. “Shhh," he placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping it would be a comfort to her. He spoke in her language, seeing as the creature knew a little. “I am Del, you are… Amelan?”

The orc's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Del?!" It looked at Beth and pointed. "Elizabeth Margaret O'Donlin!?"

Beth cried out and took a step forward as if she couldn't help herself, and he moved, pulling her back behind him and leveled a glare on the Orc that he knew would have any mortal terrified. He drew his dagger. “She is MINE!”

The orc held its hands up peaceably. "Ir abelas." An apology in Emma’s language. Then its eyes widened when it looked at the dagger.

“Shit! He knows… he knows my name! Del!? How does it have my name?” Beth was panicking behind him.

“Huar blar!? Uh…” It scrunched it’s face up in concentration and said in halting Quenya. “House Golden flower?”

The Orc knew the sigil of his house. How? it would be… was supposed to be lost to time when they woke. He nodded hesitantly and the orc looked delighted and shocked. ?

“Quenya! Gaelic, Del!” The creature looked at the elf, then back at him. “Elvhen, Huarasha dhala! Sindarin, Glorfindel! Quenya, Laurefindil!”

His fea felt as if it had been wrenched by something possessive and desperate and he gasped as he could not help a step forward at the call of his true name, then cried out in pain as the call of his name clashed his fea against the bond of his oath to protect Beth. Fear followed as soon as the call ended. The creature had both of their true names, could command them completely. He kept Beth behind himself and growled at the creature, the dagger in his hand feeling useless but still he raised it, he would fight as hard as he was able to protect her. His fea ached from the call and his Oath, but he hoped the oath proved stronger than his name.

The creature glanced at the dagger, and at his face, then at Beth, who had also drawn her dagger, and his face looked… astonished and disbelieving. “Seal’Babae… Huarasha elgar…” It raised its hands and stepped back hastily, apologetically. “Ir abelas. Ir… venavis.” 

Still the small elf did not speak, only stared at him in masked panic. 

Del shifted his weight uneasily and glanced around cautiously. It seemed… unwilling to attack. Only Emma's children could wake them... where were they? He tried Beth’s language again, it seemed to have some understanding of it. "Where are we?"

The orc squinted in confusion. "Where? Oh, uh," it gestured around and then pointed to the elf and itself. "Fenvhenan. Uh, Emma."

Emma. “Where is Emma?” Beth was shaking beside him, her fear palatable. 

"Does anybody understand them?" It was a child, speaking in the language of men.

He took a step to the side, just enough to see outside of the chamber… and there… Four children, one of men, three elflings, flanked by… young orcs and another child of men, on the brink of adulthood. He carefully pointed at the child who had spoken, “You, Come translate.”

The creature suddenly stepped into his line of view, blocking him from the children with his bulk as it bared its teeth and growled. “Mine.” Its eyes flashed gold and ice formed around its hands. Its eyes were gold… as… 

“Laurelin.” He whispered in realization. That meant...

“Laurelin? Like, Telperion and Laurelin? The trees?” The creature suddenly said in the language of men. “Also, why did I not start off with Common instead of ancient elvhen…? That was either racist or logical.” 

Ancient… Del could practically feel Beth’s nose wrinkle at the sound of English and he cocked his head… she said he was dead but… Varda… it was worth testing. “That was not any form of elvish I know… Damon.”

“That’s cuz it ain’t elvish, it’s elvh- Holy shit you know my name. The Glorfindel knows my name. HOW? I’m like so many generations away from Beth and Del it’s insane!” 

It was him. Damon. Del felt even more weak from the shock… he was alive… and Laurelin with him. His eyes found the smaller elf… who looked nothing like Thranduil but… if what she had told him was true… “Solas?” The elf started and went pale. 

The- Damon, suddenly stepped forward urgently, desperately. “Do you know Emma? Her magic was all over this place, you know of us, you have to- Where is she?” 

He felt Beth stiffen as th- Damon… moved towards them, her own hand moving her dagger upwards and he placed a hand on her arm before she could threaten him… their… grandson. 

Damon… stopped and held up his hands again. “I’m sorry about the name thing, I was just a bit… shocked. You’ve been dead like… three hundred years or so on my end and he’s like… legendary.” 

“You’re supposed to be human.” He blurted out. “You were supposed to look like Cody.”

Damon blinked before he laughed a little hysterically. “Oh, yeah, I kinda died, twice, so…” Damon gestured at himself. “tada…”

“Where is Emma and who are you?” The ellon finally spoke, his voice strained with desperation and hope, and Del looked at him in consideration of what should be told to him before Emma was here to explain. She had asked that he not tell, that she would return his memories when she was summoned back.

“I do not know.” He spoke quietly. A careful truth.

“But you know how to call her back.” One of the children said. One of the elf children with red hair. “It said so in Mamae’s book. ‘When he of the golden hair wakes with his soul’s friend’ we’re, we’re part of the golden branch.” The elfling said desperately, moving past Damon to look up at him with familiar grey eyes. “You know how to call her.”

Another set of gray eyes peeked around her and he had to swallow down the emotions whirling in his chest. These had to be her children… she would not lose as much time as she feared. “Emmaera? Iselan?”

Green magic suddenly crashed against him, shoving him backwards as it crackled menacingly and Beth screamed as it forced him to stumble back, driving the already thick air from his lungs. “Who. Are. You.” The ellon growled through gritted teeth, his eyes glowing with the same green of the magic as he moved in front of Emma’s daughters. His fea lashing out. Torn… scared and screaming, desperate. Familiar.

“Sols.” Damon moved in front of him. “Sols, that’s my QG, that’s my elfblood. Mine and EmTi’s elfblood. Pull it back. They’re safe, they’re fine. Pull it back.” 

“Stay your magic, mage, or my arrow won’t miss.” Legolas suddenly appeared next to him, bow drawn and pointed at the ellon that most certainly was Thranduil. He tried to speak, call his grandson off but the air had been driven from his chest by the desperate fea of Solas.

“Not helping, Legolas.” Damon said without turning his eyes from the ellon and he saw Legolas stiffen. “I got you, Sols. They’re not going to hurt the kids. Pull it back. C’mon, I know you can, don’t make me Speak again, that sucks.” 

Solas, who was Thranduil, curled his hands into fists and breathed harshly before his fea was drawn back and nearly disappeared.

Damon looked out the door and made several sharp hand gestures, and the oldest child of man nodded and began gathering the younger ones, herding them quietly out and away from sight. Damon pushed Emma’s daughters out after them before speaking to Solas, who was Thranduil. “Good. That’s great. Now,” Damon turned and scowled at Legolas. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Legolas glared at Damon and did not lower his bow. Instead he moved in front of him and Beth. “Are you injured, Babala? You are in pain.”

Damon blinked. “First off, that is ancient elvhen, thank you very much, you obviously have heard it before. Secondly. Who. Are. You.” The words seemed almost to glow. “You’re pointing a bow at my brother so.  _ Answer _ .” 

Legolas shuddered then glared anew, moving his arm slightly and -“NO!” Del shouted but he had already released the bow string.

The arrow flew true, a barrier flickered into place but the arrow passed through easily and nicked Damon’s arm. A warning shot. Legolas had another arrow readied in an instant. “Do. Not. Try your fell magics on me, Orc!”

“Son of a motherfucking bitch! Why do you have Em’s arrows? That burns!” Damon glanced at his arm, then his eyes flared gold and his fingers moved in the air before he relaxed. “No poison. Yay. Also, most people just call me an ox before trying to kill me, so points for originality.” His words were joking and he had a smile, but his eyes were hard, picking apart Legolas’ reactions. “Who are you?”

“You said my name.” Legolas’ eyes narrowed.

“What? No, I didn’t? Did I? I mean, I called you Legolas, but you’re a blonde elf with a bow, of course I’m gonna call you Legolas.” Again the words were joking but his eyes were hard. 

Legolas cast him a glance before addressing Damon with the bearing of a prince… Del wanted to roll his eyes. “Legolas Thranduil’ion.”

“Wow.” Damon blinked, the wary suspicion gone, then said faintly. “Sols, did I die again? Cuz between QG Beth, Motherfucking Glorfindel, and Legolas, I’m pretty sure I did. Is Gandalf about to step out of there?”

“Legolas.” Del laid a hand on his grandson. “Put your bow away… he is Damon… your uncle.”

“That is impossible.” Solas snapped, his eyes flaring green again even as Damon stepped back with a shocked expression and Legolas’ brow furrowed in disbelief. “He only has the one sister.” 

“Damon is human… and dead.” Legolas shook his head as he regarded his… uncle.

“Well. Yeah, technically, but also not. I’m trying to avoid a third death in case it sticks that time.” Damon sounded faint. “Are you like, my nephew… as in blue branch? Or in the same way QG there is my grandmother, it’s just too far away to keep track of? Or am I about to have to fight a god? Again.”

Legolas opened his mouth but Del squeezed his shoulder to silence him and glanced at Solas… who was Thranduil… and didn’t remember his life with Emma… who was Miwen… and only Emma could return his memories. “We… have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah. Preferably without weapons, which… can someone take the dwarf’s ax before he finishes waking up? I’m already bleeding and apparently look like an orc so- oh Gods! That’s Gimli! That’s even better than Gandalf!” 


	19. Chapter 19

This was Del’s blood… his Fae blood did this. She knew it. Her blood was human. Mostly. This was either Del’s blood or Grandmother’s, but she was leaning towards Del. Del, who was standing eye to eye with a dark fae, who claimed to be Emma’s brother. Cody’s descendent. Who smiled with sharp teeth at her and had her true name. And Del’s true name. Oh gods. 

The dark fae led them out of the ‘uthenera’ chamber and through caverns into a… castle… his court. Then into a room with a long table made of a tree stump… and they talked… the dark fae… the smaller fae… Legolas… Del… Gimli… they talked… and she just sat there. She refused to give the dark fea anything else. Oh gods, it had her name.

The dark fae looked at her with his pale mismatched eyes. “You alright there, Seanmathair?”

“Don’t.” Del said sharply. “No. Not that. Several thousand years separate me from that witch and I want to keep it that way. Call her grandmother or Mamaela or Beth or anything else, just not  _ that _ .”

The dark fae raised his hands as if surrendering, and she caught sight of a shimmering line of green across his right hand, as well as an image of flowers and a name on his left wrist. Was it a name he had taken? How was Del standing there so calmly? It had their names! “Okay. History there I’m dying to know about, but okay.” He paused then asked quietly. “Is it true we got the sight from QG Beth’s mysterious, never named grandmother? Ma was sure it was matrilineal.”

“You are getting distracted.” The small fae said sharply. Beth didn’t like how his hard eyes seemed to want to pick Legolas apart. Though her grandson paid him no mind.

“Yeah, totally. I went from one blood sister to extended family.” The dark fae sighed. “But yeah. We need to know how y’all ended up here, locked in Em’s magic, that was keyed to our family and almost trapped our kids, right beneath our home.” 

Del’s arm went around her as he sat back in his chair… his face pensive. “Emma built it.”

The fae ran a hand over his face. “It’s like trying to talk to GG Laure.” He muttered before speaking louder. “I gathered that much. Okay, look, I have several hundred thousand people relying on me, and I need to know how y’all got under there in the first place and if I have to worry about blood wards cropping up around Fenvhenan and possibly entrapping others. We got lucky this time that we knew the Littles had gone and had charms on them.” 

The being was worried for his realm, the ‘littles’. Del had said children were hard to create for the Eldar… if the fae’s children had been threatened by Emma’s magic...

Del frowned and their bond hummed with how troubled that made him. “Damon… Emma was torn… from your realm and time to her own… then to ours.”

“Which means you don’t know.” The dark fae collapsed into a chair. “What the hell, Em?”

“Well. Your family is as interesting as ever.” Gimli grumbled as he nursed a glass of honey water the dark fae had given him. She had tried to warn him not to eat or drink anything from the fae. But Gimli was Gimli and promptly ignored it, much to the dark fae’s amusement. That was Del’s fault too and his insistence that they weren’t fae.

Del sighed before looking at Legolas and nodding to him. Legolas hesitated before reaching into his shirt pocket and laying a smooth flat stone on the table. “Naneth said to give this to whoever woke us up.”

The smaller fae nearly jumped forward in his haste to pick it up and Legolas frowned at his eagerness. “It is a veilfire rune.” 

“That’s all you, Sols. Fire and I don’ mix.” The dark fae leaned forward to eye the stone.

The smaller fae flicked his wrist and immediately a blue-green flame came to light in his hand… and almost instantly the stone flared and a vision played behind Beth’s eyes. 

_ Emma was bent over them, bottom lip caught between her teeth before she blinked and leaned back, a happy smile pulling at her lips. “Oh, my, god. It worked… Oh…” she sat back and the view behind her changed as it felt like they were moved. “Hi, I-“ she had to clear her voice as she suddenly looked close to tears. “I’m Emma… if you have this then you are of my blood… either my- my daughters or my descendants. I just-“ her eyes began to shine and tears began to spill down her cheeks. “I don’t know how long this will last so- there is a ritual… it needs three of the blood of the Golden Branch, including the first. Glorfindel is your many greats grandfather, Legolas is my son… your brother or- uncle or great uncle- I don’t know… but Glorfindel knows how to perform the ritual… you will, in simple words be creating a portal… an Eluvian of sorts… but from point A to point B, no inbetween. Please trust him… and-“ she blew out a breath, though her tears had not stopped falling. “I miss you! I miss all of you so much!” Her face softened in a pained fondness. “Solas. Ma’fen. I don’t know if you- oh god, I love you! I’m coming home as soon as I can, ma’nas.” She wiped at her eyes and gave a watery laugh. “I don’t even know if you’ll get this, but I just-“ she began sobbing so hard she could not speak. _

_ “Mir nin? What is wrong, my love?” Someone else’s voice was heard and someone… Thranduil, it was Thranduil, moved into view, gathering her granddaughter into his arms and soothed her hair away from her temple before kissing it gently, all while shushing her.  _

The vision ended suddenly, and just as suddenly green magic was crackling and flaring around the room, scorching and furious. Del grabbed her and moved her behind his body, but he made a pained grunt as the magic washed over him.

“Solas!” She heard the dark fae shouting over the roar of magic, and then… just as suddenly… the magic stopped. Del gritted his teeth and turned to look back at the smaller fae, and Beth gasped when she saw raised burns on his back, his clothes charred as a tree struck by lightning.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” The Dark fae said softly. She peered around Del’s body to find him laying the elf onto the table, raised burns on his forearms. “He’s… torn up over her.” He glanced at his hands and grimaced. “And I’m shit at healing and just knocked him out. Yay. Y’all alright?” 

Legolas had shoved Gimli and himself down under the large table, and looked unscathed, Del grimaced but jerked his chin in a nod. “I will survive.”

Legolas’ lips curled in anger. “He could have killed someone.” 

The dark fae smiled grimly. “Believe me. I know. I got a direct line into his emotions. He’s been injured in the worst possible way, had his spirit shredded when Em got torn away, and he just got a front row seat to seeing another man kiss her and find out she had a kid with him. That was your father wasn’t it?” 

Legolas frowned. “Thranduil, Elvenking-“

“Yeah, king of the Greenwoods, last elvenking, Oropher’ion. Bet she called him ‘Piemaker’ too. I could see the resemblance… bet he could too.” The dark fae ran a hand over his face. “Shocked, but yet not surprised. She has a thing for arrogant elves.” 

“Naneth bonded with my father!” Legolas spat in anger and defense of Emma. “She would not-“

The dark fae looked unimpressed. “And with Solas here, the goldbranch father of the twins and bluebranch father of four others.” 

Legolas looked down at the smaller fae, unconscious on the table, in disbelief. Gimli grumbled about needing his axe and ‘crazy Elves’.

“Ash, Danielle, Gaelathe, Iselan, Emmaera… I do not know the fourth you speak of.” Del said. Beth could see his wounds starting to close up already. “Do not judge her harshly until she can tell you the whole. She said their names almost every night when she first came to us… before you were born, Legolas. She was broken, Damon.”

“Anthony. Em didn’t know Cass was pregnant when she was… taken.” The dark fae sounded… exhausted. “She had a lot of bonds ripped up that night.” He flicked his hand and a tiny sliver of silver light pooled in his palm before dissipating. “I got a few pieces of her spirit and she got a few of mine, I’d bet. Blood sisters.” He clenched his hand and shut his eyes and whispered brokenly. “She was alone…” 

Beth wanted out of the room, away from the dark fae and the volatile little fae. Del was hurt. The dark fae leaned on the table. “Y’all just woke up, you probably need rest and…  _ Abelas _ .” The word wisped with gold and Beth wanted to hide behind Del’s back again at the sight of the fae voice. 

The door opened moments later to reveal a white blond, smaller fae. “Ma’tarlin?” Del suddenly stiffened, their bond thrumming with his horrified recognition, even as he made himself relax and look passive. 

“Could you get a Healer for Del and rooms set up in the family section for them, and food suited for those Woken? Three rooms.” The dark fae hesitated and looked at Legolas and Gimli. “Or is it two?”

  
  
  


Rochelle was confused and curious and confused and curious. Blood wards and magic and people waking up in caves after thousands of years was just… weird. And she wanted to know more. She took the day off from lessons, because she had had a ‘traumatic experience’. Danielle was quite helpful. And she waited until she saw the giant ‘Golden Fae’ leave the family section with the dwarf and Amelan, and then she went and knocked on the door she knew the human was staying in. 

The twins, Gaelathe, Ant, Ash, Leggy, and Rain were all behind her, and she was slightly worried that they would look like a miniature army, but she couldn’t very well just leave them out of it since they were involved already. The door opened hesitantly and the human poked her head out slightly, looking pale and shaky.

Rochelle gave her best smile. “Hello! I’m Rochelle. We were hoping we could talk to you? The grown ups tend to keep us in the dark and you’re the least scary of the ones that we found.”

“Um.” The human woman blinked, then the door was opened further and the tall, but not tallest, scary elf looked down at them.

His eyes scanned over them until they landed on the twins. He sighed and said a few words to the woman in a language she didn’t understand, then the woman looked down at them again with a small smile. “Come in.” She had an accent, like a Starkhaven accent, but softer. 

They moved back and Rochelle gave a polite head tilt as she led the way into the room. Rain wrapped her fingers into the back of her shirt nervously as they passed in front of the elf. “I am Rochelle de- well just Rochelle. This is my ward, Rain, and my friend, Ash.”

“I am Gaelathe, and these are my sisters, Emmaera and Iselan, and my brother, Anthony. This is the twins’ milk brother, Legolas.” Gaelathe said quietly. “Most of us are Emma’s children.” 

The tall elf stiffened and his eyes narrowed in confusion at Leggy. “I-“ he looked over at the woman who suddenly looked amused. “Pleased to meet you all.” He settled on, awkwardly nodding at them.

The woman smiled kindly at Leggy. “An... interesting name. Legolas.”

“It means green leaf in a super old language!” Leggy announced proudly. “My godfather Damon named me after an ancient elf who was a legend! He slayed monsters and saved the world and was really good with a bow!” His shoulders sagged. “I’m not too good with it yet. Damon says I’m stuck with being called Leggy till I can shoot straight.” 

The tall elf looked shocked… then red… very red. “Ai, eru!” He turned away from them and stalked over to the table to sit down and rub his temples, muttering in their strange language.

Rochelle wondered at his reaction. “What may we call you?”

“Beth.” The woman answered, then pointed at the tall elf with a smirk. “He is Legolas. The first.”

“Ai, Mamaela!” The elf groaned. Ah, that explained his reaction.

Leggy’s mouth fell open. “ _ The _ Legolas?! Can you teach me how to shoot!” He hurried over and bounced next to the elf. “Can you? Would you? I mean- Oh, I’ve heard so many stories about you! Did you really smuggle a dwarf into your gods’ home?”

Ash laughed silently and signed. “ **Legs, let him breathe, he just woke up** .”

‘The Legolas’ blushed and looked away before clearing his throat… “I could show you a few things… later.”

Leggy let out a high pitched squeak before his face flushed red too. “Best. Day. Ever.” 

Ash reached out and snagged him, pulling him in to rub his head with his knuckles, making the child squawk and flail. 

“Ash… really?” Rochelle sighed. “He’s going to-”

Leggy punched Ash in the gut sharply and used Ash’s sudden lack of breath to scamper back to hide behind the twins, only for Anthony to grab him and start tickling him.

“Do that.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at Ash’s thumbs up at the child. “You’re all a bunch of wolves.” Rain giggled softly, then hid behind her again when the tall elf looked at her.

The woman chuckled at their antics and looked at them all in interest. “You said most of you were Emma’s children?”

Gaelathe answered. “I’m the first chosen child of Damon and Emma, Danielle and Ash are the second and third chosen children of Damon and Emma, Legolas is the godchild to Damon and the twins’ milk brother, Iselan and Emmaera are the blood children of Emma, and Anthony is the blood child of Damon.”

The woman blinked then looked at her. “And you?”

Rochelle smiled. “Oh, Amelan kidnapped me, tried to send me home, and I came back and made him let me stay. I stole Rain from him and Fen’Harel.”

The woman blinked then spun on ‘The Legolas’ and hissed something about fae. ‘The Legolas’ looked… tired. “We’re not fae, mamaela, neither are they.”

“Actually…” Isy said. “We are a little fae! Like QG Del! Papa is… he’s a little more fae than the rest of us.” 

Rochelle was about to tell her that that didn’t seem to be helping to set the woman at ease when a stern voice spoke from behind them.

“What are you doing in here?” Fen’Harel stood in the doorway, cold and impassive. 

“ **Talking** . **We got permission from her** .” Ash signed uncertainly. “ **Papa said** -”

“Out. Go back to your studies. You should not be around them without us.”

Ant flinched and stepped back to cling to Ash’s leg, his moon colored eyes wide and shocked. 

Rochelle narrowed her eyes at Fen’harel… in all the time she had known him he never raised his voice to his children. “Are we prisoners? Are they? I was under the impression this was the ‘family’ section.” She lifted her chin. “Besides. We have the day off since we had an unfortunate brush with someone stealing me from Skyhold as bait.” 

Fen’harel looked down at her and… his eyes were cold… emotionless. “Go.  _ Now _ .”

“No.” She crossed her arms to hide the fact that her hands had started shaking.

“ **Rochelle** …” Ash started signing and she saw the twins both looking at their father with tears brimming in their eyes.

“No, Ash. We have permission.” She glared at the Dread Wolf. “If he wants to yell at children, then that’s his problem.” He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t use his magic on her. He wouldn’t. Right? 

Fen’Harel’s eyes narrowed on her and she hadn’t realized ‘the Legolas’ had moved until he put himself between the Dread Wolf and them. “They might just be safer with us.” He said, and Rochelle saw his hand close to the hilt of a white handled knife. Shortsword really. “Have your friend’s hands healed yet?” 

Oh Maker, he had hurt someone. Rochelle sucked in a breath when Fen’Harel snarled and took a step forward, putting himself within arms’ reach of ‘The Legolas’. “You-“

“Solas!” Amelan’s voice was surprisingly welcome. Welcome, but tightly scared and furious. “There a reason every kid not with me hit their charms at the same time?” 

Fen’Harel suddenly blinked and stepped back… his eyes falling to them and stopping on the twins, who were now silently crying. “I…” He went to reach for them but stopped himself. He swallowed, then stepped back again, “Ir Abelas.”

“C’mon.” Amelan gently set his hand on Fen’Harel’s shoulder. Rochelle saw raised, raw streaks across the dark skin. “We have to finish learning the ritual before Satinalia. They’re fine, c’mon.” 

Fen’harel nodded stiffly, pointedly not looking at Legolas, as Amelan led him away.

The door closed and Rochelle let out a shaky breath before going to gather the littles into a hug. Isy, Emy, and Ant were all three crying and that wasn’t alright. Leggy was hiding behind Gaelathe, who had a blank expression horribly similar to Fen’Harel’s. “It’s okay. He’s just upset about something else.” 

She glanced up over Ant’s head to see Beth staring at her with a strange expression. ‘The Legolas’ was regarding her with… was that respect? 

“You…” Beth shook her head and knelt down by Gaelathe. “You alright, sweetling? It’s okay to cry if you need to.” 

Gaelathe’s expression remained blank. “His magic is screaming. She acts like her and it hurts… he thinks Mamae forgot about him.”

“The Mamae who left super detailed clues and hints thousands of years ago so that you could find the people needed to bring her back to him?” Rochelle shook her head before pressing a kiss to Ant’s horn nubs like she’d seen his Mama do. “You’re okay. I think your Babae just lost his sense for a bit.”

Rain shifted her weight from foot to foot. “All of your blood sings when you’re near each other. It itches, yours and the wolf’s most of all.” She pointed at Legolas with her chin. 

Beth frowned. “What did she say?”

“She said that ‘The Legolas’ and Fen’Harel’s blood sings when they’re near each other, as do all of you Golden Branchers.” Rochelle translated. “She’s a very talented mage.” And Rain blushed and ducked her head with a smile. Ant pulled away and furrowed his brow, holding his hands apart slightly until pale gold flames sparked between his fingers, then sputtered out. 

“I magic too!” 

“How nice.” Beth said faintly. 


	20. Chapter 20

They would be stuck without Emma for several months. She had told Del the ritual had to be performed on a certain day or it wouldn’t work and Legolas and Del had to recover from their… deep sleep. All of them were weak… well as weak as Eldar fae could be. Weak, and in the realm of the dark fae, who had their names.

Beth startled when the dark fae sat at the table across from her. She almost spilled the broth she had been served, but saved it at the last instant. The dark fae was smiling at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement as it set a thick, dog-eared book in front of her.

“I realize you are a bit terrified of me, and we got off on the wrong foot, so, I brought you the family records, as much of them as we have in this realm anyway.” He paused and looked at her intently, and she tried not to shrink under its pale gaze. “Your Del is just around the corner and Gimli is glaring at me not five paces away. You are safe from me.” 

“Why would the family records-” She stopped and bit her lip. She shouldn’t speak to him.

“So you can trace me back to you and Del.” He shrugged. “So you know I didn’t steal my name.” 

He flipped open the book and pulled out a thick, many folded paper and began spreading it across the table. It covered the whole table, and she blinked at the many, many branches of blue and two winding branches of gold. At the top was her full, true name, next to a simple, short ‘Del’.

“Unfortunately, we have a family tradition of putting the full name of someone down after they’ve died… so, uh. That’s how I got your name.” The dark fae pointed at her name, then to Cody’s, then to Damien, and began tracing down name after name of a golden branch until he came to rest on a Valerie-Keen, the same name on his wrist. “My ma.” He tapped on the next name. Damon Theron. “Me, not my full name of course, though I’m sure the records in my previous realm have it now.” He tapped the next name lined in gold. “My blood son. Anthony.” He went back up to his name, and traced across a red line to Emma’s name. “My sister, Emma.” Up to an Esther. “Her mom.” All the way up to Mirwa. 

She couldn’t help but look over the intense, vastly spread tree and feel… awed that all of these names came from her and Del. The dark fae looked at her with a smile that showed the sharp points of his canines. “So. Family. I’m just as fae as your Del.” 

She glanced up at his horns and he laughed. “Ah, this is just the body I got myself when I died the second time. I thought it was pretty.” 

“You really died? ”She couldn’t help but blurt out in disbelief. She knew Emma had said her brother Damon had died…

“Yeah. Twice. Once, my boyfriend restarted my heart. Second time… I had to get myself a new body and got pulled over to this realm.” He leveled a look at her. “Sort of like what happened to you. But, anyway. I...” He inhaled sharply and looked away. “I want to level the playing field between us, so to speak. Make things fair.” 

She narrowed her eyes. This sounded like a fae bargain. He grinned at her with sharp teeth. “Yeah, I know how it sounds. But here it is. I am willing to give you my true name.” 

Beth leaned back in shock. “What?”

He shrugged. “I have yours, it’s only fair.”

“In return for what?”

“I… would like a promise that you won’t tell my true name to anyone else.” 

It was a fair promise… and not a bad price. “In return for your true name, I promise not to tell anyone else what it is, either by word or writing.” 

He looked around before leaning in and whispering. “Damon Astaldo Konstantina-Theron.” 

She felt the tingle of a true name and let out a relieved breath she hadn’t known she was holding. If it was his true name, he had not stolen it from her grandson. The dark- Damon. Damon tilted his head at her, his pale eyes amused. “One more and you’ll hold three true names, willingly given.” 

“I have Emma’s.” Three… that was a powerful number. 

“No, you don’t. She has a true name, but the name doesn’t hold her true.” He shrugged. “She doesn’t believe in it, and her will tends to overpower another’s belief. Unfortunately for me, I believe, so my true name holds me true, and truly holds the things I name true.”

“You sound like my grandmother.” 

He laughed and leaned back in the chair, making it creak with strain as he stretched, showing the glitter of magical symbols running down his chest and over his heart. “I’ll take that as an insult properly deserved.” He leaned forward again and began folding up the family tree. “You can keep these. I copied them down for the kids, but these were the originals.” 

“Thank you.” She paused, then gathered her courage to ask. “You said… in the vault, you said your name was Amelan.”

“It’s my name, given to me, but it’s also a title. It means ‘Guardian’.” He gave her a wry smile. “I have a guardian spirit. Protective.” 

“Papa!” One of the children, Iselan, came bounding over and bounced on her feet. “Can we take the old ones on the Moon Run?” 

Damon raised his eyebrows and glanced at her uncertainly. “They are welcome to join us, you can invite them, but make sure you actually tell them what to expect. I’ve already been shot once.” 

Iselan turned a bright smile to her and started with a big breath. “Papa and Babae and Dani shift into wolves and carry us and we run under the moon and it’s soooooo much fun, can you come please?”

Beth felt both unnerved and excited at the thought of a full moon ritual with the faelings and Damon… but… She studied Damon, who was watching Iselan with a sad, fond smile. Guardian… “Alright, if you can convince your Babala Del to join in.” 

And just like that the little faeling that had Emma’s eyes darted around the corner and they could hear her gushing the same thing to Del who leaned around the corner to smirk at them. 

  
  
  


Legolas was trying… he was. But the elf was volatile and a danger to those around him. He wasn’t trying to antagonize, he stayed in their rooms mostly for just that reason. Babala could prepare and explain the ritual… Eru, he hoped Naneth had answers… he knew she was not eldar... and not edain either but… to be bonded twice. He had siblings… born before him but all still children.

His heart longed to get to know them, as was his right as their brother but… he was loathe to deal with… Solas. Babala’s back had barely healed from his last outburst.

There was a knock at the door, and then just as quickly he heard a childish shriek and then the rumble of Damon’s voice. “Nope! You gotta have breakfast and lessons before you go back to houndin’ him.” 

“But- but he’s  _ The Legolas _ ! I don’t wanna wait!” ‘Leggy’ whined, and it sounded like his voice was getting further away.

“Dude, believe me, I know. I’m in fansquee mode too. Food. Education. Geek later.” 

There was the other thing… apparently his… cousin was named after him… and he was revered for his part as a ring bearer, yet the elves he had seen so far were… not eldar. They were small… Gimli was a dwarf but he stood the same height as most of the ‘elves’ here. Naneth had said things would be different, but… it was confusing still.  Where was Ada? She had promised he would be here. Was he waiting… to avoid Solas?

“Awwwwwww.” The child whined, voice muffled by distance. 

He sighed… he needed to be outside… find some trees. He had paced every inch of their rooms in the past few days and it only served to aggravate him. So, determined to just avoid… Solas… he grabbed his bow and quiver from where they hung and went in search of fresh air.

The second he stepped out of the room, he saw Damon walking near the end of the hall, ‘Leggy’ draped over his shoulder in a dejected heap, a large white wolf walking at his side. ‘Leggy’ gasped and then… blurred, and was standing in front of him. If he had not seen Naneth do it from time to time it would have unnerved him. Damon whirled with an exasperated shout. “Legs! No Fade stepping till you’re- oh fu- You manifested!”

‘Leggy’s eyes were wide with shock. “I got my magic!” 

Damon ran back and grabbed the child into a spinning hug. “You got your magic!” 

The wolf made a slight woofing noise before it sat quietly and watched on.

It was apparently a momentous occasion… “Congratulations, child.” He said quietly with a small smile.

“Legolas! I got my magic!” The child wiggled from Damon’s grip. “That means I don’t got lessons today! So can I-”

“Hey, breakfast was on that list too.” Damon chided. “Let the guy breathe.”

Leggy looked crestfallen for a moment before rallying. “Can I take him to the tree? We can eat under the tree!” 

Damon sighed and the wolf grumbled. “We can’t just-“

“Actually,” Legolas spoke up and almost laughed when… his uncle… started comically. “I would enjoy some fresh air, it was what I was seeking.”

Leggy let out an elated squeak and bounced. Damon blinked then grinned, more contained but just as excited. “Alright. Legs, you go get Ilaan to send something out, would you? Take...” Damon glanced at him and then the wolf uncertainly. “Take Rebel with you.” 

The child squeaked again and seemed to vibrate, and Damon grabbed his shoulder. “Physically. No Fade Stepping till you’re older.” He let him go and Leggy ran, ‘physically’ off with the wolf, ‘Rebel’ at his side. 

Which left him alone… with th- his uncle… who was younger than him… had named his cousin after him. Oh Eru. The man grinned at him, then it shifted to something… shy. “I’ll just…” He awkwardly indicated over his shoulder with his thumb, a gesture Naneth used whenever she felt uncomfortable.

“Tree?” He supplied, hoping it put the man at ease.

His… uncle’s eyes widened and sparked gold for an instant and he…  _ felt _ his excitement before it was called back and his eyes went back to the mismatched pale silver. “Yeah! Sure, I can show you. Can’t miss it, I planted it like seven years ago, but we feed it so much it looks about fifty years old.” 

Legolas nodded… and they still stood in the hall… the man… his uncle, shifting his weight in uncomfortable excitement.

Damon suddenly shook himself like a startled wolf and muttered under his breath. “Motherfreakin’Legolaswhatismylife?” Then louder as he took a step away. “Um. This way?” 

Thankfully, this time he did move and Legolas followed behind him slowly. Inwardly praying they did not run into another… Fansquee mode person. But most of the people they crossed would step back and either bow or salute his uncle, who either ignored them or nodded as they passed, like his father had done when walking through his halls. Naneth had said that Damon had led a great kingdom before his death. 

He considered his strange… uncle, and his eyes lit on the warning wound he had given him. The gash across his upper arm was unhealed. “Have you… not had that tended to?”

“Nope! Cleaned it, but I’m hoping it scars.” Damon said brightly. “Might put some leaves around it to go with the tree on my back.” He turned slightly to show the glimmering gold and silver tree that covered the expanse of his back.

Legolas knew Dwarves liked to showcase their scars, ‘didn’t kill me.’ ‘I survived it’ statements but he had never seen them decorated as such… he knew some orcs like, Azog, that made strategic cuts into their skin so it would scar… Naneth said it was a way for them to achieve individuality. “They are… unique.”

“I should hope so. I designed them all myself.” Damon seemed pleased by the comment. “Well, except for the runes, those were my mom’s.” 

Legolas smiled, though he did not understand the practice he could relate to having something of sentiment. “My Naneth made my first bow.” He offered, it seemed fair. He had showed something personal, a show of trust… it was his uncle. 

“I can… I can see that.” Damon said softly. Then blinked. “Oh, I bet she was as giddy as a marshmallow over that. She take you on your first hunt?”

Legolas shook his head. “No… she was… taken before I was old enough… when she came back I was grown.”

“I’m sorry.” His uncle said quietly. Then took a deep breath and shoved a door open. “Missed your first blooding then. Here’s hoping she’s back before Ash’s. She already missed Danielle’s.” 

They walked quietly for a few moments and Legolas asked a question that had been… nagging him. “She loved Ada… but it seems she also loved… him.” He sighed and shook his head in his confusion. “Do you…?” He couldn’t think of how to finish…. was he angry at her as... Solas was? Did he think what she did was wrong? Did he blame her? He didn’t know what to ask.

“I’m not really the one to ask about stuff like that.” His uncle said quietly. “I’ve only been monogamous for like… seven years now. Love for me is different than it is for Em. Em is… loyal and stubborn. I’m a… love and be loved, however it may be. Me… I can’t imagine seeing ten thousand years stretch out in front of me and think I had to walk them alone.” 

Legolas knew bonds were not the same for others as it was for eldar but… “She cried for him… even as my father comforted her.” He said quietly.

“That’s… answer for me. Your father knew she loved Solas still, and him, and still loved her. The heart’s got room for a lot.” Damon shrugged. “But I’m a pagan bisexual disaster, so that’s just my take.” 

He blinked… he just admitted… he shook his head. Naneth said things would be different.

When they stepped outside… he felt he could breathe again… in a way he hadn’t felt since waking up. He paused and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, enjoying the life in the air. Trying to wash away the turmoil in his being with the clear crispness of the air and the bright sunshine. When he opened his eyes, his… uncle was grinning at him widely enough to show his sharp teeth.

“That’s the tree. Gets better closer.” He bounced slightly and then pointed to a large, white tree growing by the gate. A white tree like… 

“How did you-? The white tree of Gondor. It survived.” Legolas had to keep the shock from his voice. Unlike the white tree in the Court of the Fountain that grew slowly and never very high, this tree was massive, bright and alive in a way the others..

“It didn’t, but Sols kept some seeds and I managed to coax one into growin’.” Damon looked pleased and proud as they descended the steps. “You can climb it if you want. Might make your teeth buzz.” 

Legolas nodded and unhooked his bow and quiver and held them out to his uncle to hold, not even looking at him before launching himself up into one of the branches. The tree sang beneath his palms… caressing his fea in greeting and vibrating as if excited to see an eldar. 

Damon looked up at him and then to the bow in his hand and made a squeaking noise in the back of his throat, his eyes flaring gold and there was a brush of  _ excitementaweshockhappy _ before it and the gold was brushed away. Damon cleared his throat but bounced slightly on his heels, looking like he wanted to hug the bow. “It likes you.”

Legolas huffed a laugh, enjoying the… energy and life around him… he felt awake… he could breathe. “Most trees are fond of the Eldar.”

“Y’all both run on starlight.” Damon was still staring at his bow as if he could not believe he was holding it. 

“There you are, Elf.” Gimli’s voice drew his attention to the stairs of the keep, where he stood next to another gray skinned and horned man with one eye. “Leave you alone for a moment and you’re in a tree.” 

Damon let out that squeaking noise again. “Just like Em. Hello, Gimli. Bull.”

“There you are, Boss.” The horned man stepped forward and the pair reached for each other as if to clasp arms, only to punch each other instead. Neither seemed surprised or phased. 

“Little pebble knocked some sense into me.” Damon said wryly before bouncing.

Legolas dropped down from the tree to the ground next to him and stood to offer the other man a nod of greeting. 

“So… Bull have you met my… oh gods, my nephew, Legolas?” Damon introduced them.

“Carefull, Boss. You’re grinning as big as Lil’Bit when she met me.” 

“Yeah. Fansquee. It’s a family hazard.” 

The horned man, ‘Bull’ looked at him consideringly before extending a hand. “The Iron Bull.” 

Legolas gripped his forearm in, though a little familiar, greeting. “Legolas Thranduil’ion… The Iron Bull, a title?”

“Name. Picked it myself.” The horned man looked him over, then shrugged. “It’s weird being almost eye level with elves, not gonna lie.” 

“Wait till you meet Del. That’s a mind trip and a half.” Damon muttered. “So… have you two arm wrestled yet?” He looked between Gimli and… The Iron Bull.

Gimli grinned. “Not a bad idea, that.”

“Legolas!” The child from before called out before colliding into the side of his leg. “Ilaan made us chocolate pancakes! Cuz I got my magic and I’m gonna be a wizard!” The child suddenly gasped in a big inhale. “Can you Run the Moon with us?!” 


	21. Chapter 21

The children’s excitement was infectious. They jumped and chattered and ran and sang and skipped till the air rang with their joy. Even the adults seemed buoyant and excited. There were so many, Damon and Emma’s ‘chosen father’, Damon’s wife, Bull, Leggy’s mother, Mamaela, Babala, him and Gimli. It felt almost like a feast night, there were so many, and among them, a massive warhound and four wolves. The white wolf had somehow acquired streaks of gray along it’s muzzle and hackles, and it walked quietly alongside Damon with Anthony on its back, chuffing warningly at the smaller wolves when they pranced too near as the other children chased each other and them. 

Legolas was no fool, he knew the wolf called ‘Rebel’ that was ever at Damon’s side was Solas, but the ellon wished to pretend he was not there, and… it was easier to deal with the ellon in his canine form. It was probably easier for the ellon as well. So Legolas treated him respectfully, as a wolf. 

Legolas found himself smiling, grinning, honestly, when Babala swept up Ash and put him on his shoulders. The horned child grinned, the expression pulled crooked by his scar, but no less joyous for it. The other horned child, Rain, looked up wistfully, then away. It was not an expression that suited the atmosphere and Legolas smiled before lifting her up and setting her on his own shoulders, though he was not as tall as Babala, he was taller than most everyone else save the Bull and Damon.

The Iron Bull laughed at Rain’s excited shriek and tossed Danielle over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, completely ignoring her screeches of “Uncle Bull! Put me down this instant!” 

Damon turned on his heel and his wife, Cassandra, pointed at him sternly, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Do. Not!”

His uncle bowed, walking backwards still, his grin sharp and bright in the moonlight. “As you command, my lady.” 

The twins took advantage of him bending down to jump up and grab onto his horns, hanging from them with delighted giggles as he straightened and continued to walk backwards. “Oh dear, I seem to have something caught on my horns. I better go clean them off on the nearest tree.”

“No!” The girls giggled and pulled themselves up to perch on his shoulders, with help from him. 

Legolas… liked this. The playful laughter of the children, the relaxed chatter among the adults, even the bouncing and panting of the canines. He felt a tug at his fea and looked ahead to see they were walking towards a massive almond tree that… He swallowed. It smelled of Naneth’s magic. Damon looked at him with a slight smile. “Please don’t climb this one. It’s her first.”

Legolas nodded, his eyes still fixed on the almond tree that seemed to be blooming and fruiting at the same time. There was a small ritual of sorts where each of them ducked forward and put their hand and then their forehead to the tree in greeting, and Legolas mimicked them. Gimli grumbled about ‘elves and their trees’ but he was enjoying himself just as much as everyone else.

Then Damon shrugged his shoulders, and in a flash of gold magic, a massive black wolf was in his place. Danielle let out another flash of magic, and then the Iron Bull was holding a squirming, growling red wolf in his arms instead of a girl. The scarred man laughed and set the wolf down, and she huffed and shook her fur out indignantly. Some shuffling, children set atop wolves backs, and then the white wolf raised it’s massive head and let out a howl that made the air ring with haunting grief.

There was a breath of silence, and then the wolf that was Damon raised its head and let out another howl, this one hopeful. Another breath, and then Gaelathe threw back his head and let out a surprisingly powerful howl that was picked up quickly by the other children, and then the wolves, and even some of the adults until the night was filled with wolf howls. 

Legolas felt his fea shudder at the sound, it was… family. And then they were off. The wolves with their children, then the adults, all running together under the moon, the air ringing with shrieks of laughter, calls of direction and jokes, howls and yips till he felt as if his blood was singing with the unrestrained joy of it. He could see Babala running hand in hand with Mamaela, lagging behind but still as elated as the rest. A shadow of movement and a shriek of laughter, and a red wolf was leaping from the shadows to knock The Iron Bull off of his feet, bounding away at his playful roar of laughter. 

He laughed, and then had to duck and leap away from a pounce from a massive black wolf with three children clinging precariously to his back. “Ai!” He rolled and leapt up with a grin. Naneth had chased him as a wolf when he was still the elfling and it was… freeing. Something joyous from his youth.

He lost himself in the simple joy of the Moon Run, the chase and be chased, the game of it, dodging and wrestling until a panting Damon raised his head and howled, short and sharp, and as one, the children and adults turned towards the tree. The ‘chosen father’ Loghain, Leggy’s mother, and Cassandra had dropped out of the romp earlier, and were waiting beneath the tree with drinks and a picnic. 

Legolas grinned at Gimli, who was huffing, red cheeked from exertion, but had refused to ‘be out done by a bunch of elves and pups’. “As interesting… as… ever… elf.” 

Damon dropped to the ground by the tree and pretended to roll over on top of the children, who shrieked and scrambled away before he could crush him, then pounced right back on top of him when he changed back to his… true form. “Whatcha think of the Moon Run, Mamaela? Babala?” 

Babala smiled and let Mamaela slide down from his back where she had climbed on halfway through the run. “It was both invigorating and relaxing, thank you for including us.”

The white wolf silently padded up and sat, letting its burden slide off, then went to lay under the tree. Damon looked at it with a tight smile before looking back at Babala. “Family. Yeah? More the merrier.” 

Legolas was about to move to explore a little more but a shout from one of the twins made him freeze. “Legolas! Isa’ma’lin! Did you like it?” They asked as they ran up to him.

The white wolf’s lips lifted in a silent snarl, and Damon’s hand suddenly clamped over the wolf’s muzzle. Legolas was uncertain what ‘Isa’ma’lin’ meant but it seemed significant… and it put an edge into the air that was not there before, but the twin who had spoken was bouncing at his feet eagerly. 

“I enjoyed it…” he was not sure which twin it was and hazarded a guess. “Thank you… Emy?”

The girl wrinkled her nose. “I’m Isy!” She lifted her nose in mock offense. “For that, you have to convince Papa to let us sing the song.” 

“C’mon, Isy! Some of us were using our legs!” His uncle laughed, but it was not a sincere protest. 

Isy put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him in silent demand. He rolled his eyes. “Would you allow them to sing the song? On my behalf?”

Damon sighed exaggeratedly and stood, then held out a hand to his wife Cassandra. “C’mon, hun, you heard him. Gotta sing the song.”

Cassandra smiled softly and stood, pulling Leggy’s mother behind her. The ones familiar with the Moon Run all shuffled into a broken circle around the tree, hands joined. Danielle wiggled her fingers at Mamaela and began to sing.

“Come and gather around, And join in the crowd, Singing the songs that we know! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!”

Mamaela took her hand, and Babala took hers, and then reached for his with a shrug as the song continued. 

“We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!”

Gimli and The Iron Bull were the last to join the circle, but when they did, the group began to move around the tree as they sang, voices joining in until the air rang with the music almost as loud as the howl had. Damon’s voice dripped with his gold magic, gold that was swept up by the others through their linked hands, drawing them together in a cold rush of  _ hopefamilylovetogetherhappy _ . 

“We will dance through the night, In the candlelight, Warmed by the fires glow! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!”

The pace picked up with the song, and the wolves within the circle laid down around the tree and watched with their ears up as a semblance of a dance emerged. 

“And we'll follow the stars, No matter how far, Wherever the wind may blow! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!”

The song was simple and hopeful, and Legolas quickly picked up the tune at least, humming along as the children shouted joyously. “HEY!

“When the sun starts to rise, We'll not hide our eyes, We'll greet her with a kiss hello! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!”

The children shouted again, spinning the circle faster as they jumped in glee. “HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!”

“All the memories we share, Greet us everywhere, Along life's twisting road! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago!” The circle was almost running with how fast it was moving, and Legolas could see Anthony happily dangling between The Iron Bull and Loghain.

“Come and gather around And join in the crowd, Singing the songs that we know! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago! And one to days long ago! And one to days long ago!”

The gathering of family shouted, “HEY!” Then collapsed to the ground in giggles and breathlessness. 

Damon rested his hand on the back of the white wolf, who was watching silently with its ears back. “There, song is sung. Now drink and eat so we can get you little ones into bed.” He looked over at Mamaela as the children groaned, but fell onto the food eagerly. “How’s that for full moon fae revelry, mamaela?"

She laid back on the grass with a smile. “It reminds me of Shunmahayr.” 

Babala let out a playful groan but wrapped his arm around her, laying on his back so they could see the stars as he held her. “Ever does she linger.”

Glorfindel woke feeling… light. Happy. He opened his eyes to see the light of the sun shining from between the branches of the blossoming almond tree that sang with Emma’s magic. Her first, Damon had said. Her first tree she had sung into being. It felt refreshing to have slept outside under the stars with… his family. They were piled together, the children having fallen asleep across their legs after eating. Solas was still in his wolf form, his head resting on Damon’s chest and the twins using him as a pillow. 

His fur was darkening swiftly, and the change in color concerned Glorfindel. He was more gray than anything now, black spots around his muzzle. Emma said he would be different… damaged as she had been but… it was difficult to see his friend and family so changed by grief. 

He had not seen Solas return to his ellon form since the day he had frightened the children. When he was Thranduil… he had stayed in his elk form for months to cope with the loss of Emma. Something about it gave him peace. 

Legolas had been mostly quiet… but he had been expecting his father. Emma had told him another ‘careful truth’, no doubt she did not expect father and son to clash or had expected to be there for their first meeting after so long. He found himself glad that ‘Solas’ had Damon to settle him, that Damon was… oddly accepting of the situation despite not knowing who Solas had been. 

Beth shifted against his side, a sign she would be waking soon. He heard giggling and turned his head to see the twins had moved from their father’s side to sneak over to Legolas, waving their hands in front of his eyes, and giggling again when he did not react. But judging from his grandson’s breathing, he knew and was waiting to see what they would do next.

The twins whispered together in the ‘elvhen’, then put their hands together and furrowed their brows. He saw their feas move, and then their hands were covered in a bright pink substance. Paint of some sort. They reached for Legolas’ face and began tracing patterns over his eyebrows and on his cheeks… through all of this he didn’t move.

He remembered a much younger Legolas bemoaning about his lack of siblings. Finished with decorating their brother, they moved to Damon, who’s fea was flaring with fond amusement as they pressed the pink paint to his face and horns, careful not to touch his hair. They turned to him, then froze when they saw him watching. He smiled and mimed sewing his lips shut as he’d seen Emma do at times. They giggled quietly again and moved to lay back done with their father, wiping their hands off on his fur and leaving bright streaks of pink. 

They were most definitely Emma’s children. They had her bent for fun and mischief. 

Gimli was the first to wake… and immediately burst into roaring laughter at the sight of Legolas’ face. Legolas for his part pretended to be confused… which made the twins giggle as they feigned sleep. 

Legolas would enjoy being a brother to them… he only hoped Emma’s return would solve the tension between Solas and the son he had forgotten.

The group roused slowly and quickly in turns, waking and grumbling and some of them falling on each other in sleepy wrestling as things were packed up for the return to Skyhold. Del felt excited at the thought of repeating the experience on the next moon. It was… family again.

As they walked through the well worn path to return to Skyhold, Damon suddenly frowned and tilted his head before he glanced at ‘Rebel’. Del saw their feas flare before Damon’s mouth set into a flat line and he picked up his pace. “Gotta deal with somethin’, fam, I’ll catch y’all at lunch.”

‘Rebel’, who was Solas who was Thranduil, trotted beside him, and Del slipped Beth’s hand into Legolas’ before following them as well. He was curious, and if there was trouble he would rather face it before Beth neared it. 

Damon glanced at him then shrugged with a wry smile, accepting his presence. They walked quickly towards Skyhold, and as they neared, Del could see the one they called Abelas standing by the gate. Elrond… his fea wary and uncertain. 

Glorfindel’s heart ached for his old friend and lord. He had recognized his fea the moment he had laid eyes on him, but it was… scarred and torn, pieces sealed off, memories taken.

“What’s happened?” Damon asked bluntly.

E-Abelas straightened his spine. “The… traitor is asking to speak with you, ma’tarlin.”

Damon’s brow furrowed and Solas snorted irritably. “He’s been doing the silent treatment for days now. What changed?” 

“He will not say. Only asks to speak to you, ma’tarlin.” Abelas hesitated,  _ warynervouspitysuspicion _ , then continued. “Either you, or your ancestor, ma’tarlin Huarasha Dhala.” 

He barely kept his composure when the ellon that had been Elrond, the wisest of them all, called him ‘tarlin’. Lord. He felt sick at the fate of his friend. 

Damon and Solas’ feas flared between them again before Damon looked at him, his eyes calculating as they glanced from him to Abelas. “There’s… Em’s old bodyguard. He… betrayed us. Purposefully endangered the kids. Do you know why he’d want to speak to you?” 

Glorfindel shook his head, he had not yet awoken, how would he know? “What did he do that endangered them?”

“He kidnapped Rochelle and Rain,” Damon hesitated, “to oversimplify it, dropped them into a dangerous situation to lure some of my kids out of Fenvhenan, and then… fed Gaelathe and the twins information that had them haring off into the caverns by themselves while we were searching for the other missing kids.

Abelas’ fea flared in  _ guiltfailureanger _ . 

Glorfindel frowned. “The same caves you found us in? And inadvertently… a way to help Mi- Emma return?”

Damon nodded and his fea flared in frustration. “We’re not sure if that was happy circumstance or what was the plan or anything, because he’s refused to say anything when we tried to figure out what was going on.” 

Solas let out a rumbling growl and Abelas flinched. Damon glanced at Abelas, then put a hand on Solas’ back. “Why don’t you go ahead and wait for us, Abelas? We’ll be there shortly.

Abelas’ fea wisped with relief as he inclined his head respectfully and left. Del found his eyes following the remnants of his friend as he moved away, and when he turned his attention back to Damon, he found him watching him intently. 

He eyed him before speaking in a guarded tone. “You keep watching him.”

“He…” Del hesitated to reveal what he knew. “Is wounded in spirit.”

Damon abruptly relaxed, then grimaced. “Yeah. He was a slave before we… ‘forcibly acquired’ him. We’re… trying to help. He’s healed a lot since, but it’s slow going.” 

Oh Eru. A slave. His lord and friend a slave? What of Celebrian? What was her fate? “Who?” He must not have kept his rage from his voice at the thought of his lord being enslaved because Damon gave him an understanding look. 

“An ancient elf called Mythal. We’ve… stolen a lot of slaves from her and several others and freed them.” Damon ran a hand over his face in exhausted frustration. “When we can find them. But… if Banal’ras is willing to talk to you, would you be alright coming? I… want answers. Em liked him and…” He trailed off, his shoulders dropping in disappointment and… dread.

Del nodded. “If it will help-“ He then furrowed his brow in suspicion. “I will not be party to torture!”

Damon recoiled in horror. “No!” He shook his head and his eyes flashed with Laurellin’s light and  _ horrorrevulsionshockhurt _ . “No, never that. Ever!” His hand came to rest on Solas’ back, his fingers digging into the thick grey fur of his hackles in search of comfort. Or to give comfort. 

Del nodded, satisfied. “Emma said things had changed… I do not know the extent of it… but eldar… we do not survive such things.”

“Oh, it’s a shit show out there all right.” Damon muttered. “I hid Fenvhenan to keep it out.” He paused. “Also, technically that’s not true.” Then he winced. “I don’t know from personal experience, I just… know.” 

“Be that as it may, I would rather not test it.” He spoke quietly, he would not argue. Emma knew things... likely Damon did as well. Better not to argue… even if he didn’t quite believe it.

“Oh, believe me, I don’t want to test it out either.” Damon shuddered and resumed walking to Skyhold. “He’s been in the ‘dungeons’ which is basically a simple apartment. He has sun and starlight, food, water, cleanliness. He just can’t… leave. We don’t do mistreatment of prisoners, hell, we don’t normally  _ have _ prisoners, instead working towards rehabilitation and community service, but… kids.” 

Del nodded… he could understand that… this was family. How many times had he bloodied his sword in the defense of his own?

Damon was quiet, his fingers tightly tangled in Solas’ fur as he led the way to the prison. It was… clean. Clean, well lit, and… empty. The only inhabitant was…

“Gwathren?” He gasped. It had to be him, Thranduil’s friend and captain… standing in a cell for supposedly betraying Thranduil and his children. 

The ellon started at the name, his eyes snapping up before he bowed his head and brought his hand to his chest and curled it over his heart. “My Lord Glorfindel.” 

Solas let out a sharp whine as if he had been stabbed, his ears laying back before he turned and ran. 

Damon looked after him in concern, then between Gwathren and himself in disbelief. “Wait, you two know each other?”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for ritualistic self harm for blood magic

Del was… stunned. Gwathren… after so long, so many years. He could see the scars on the ellon’s fea, but his memories were not sealed away as Elrond’s or Thranduil’s. He… “He… he was the elvenking’s captain.”

Damon blinked, his mouth open, then frowned. “Thranduil… as in, Emma’s Thranduil?”

Banal’ras hesitated, glancing at him before bowing his head. “Vin, ma’tarlin.”

“Nah, don’t pull that subservient crap on me. You know I hate it.” Damon ran a hand over his face.

“What… why are…?” Del… He didn’t even know what to ask. Gwathren… here, after so long. And Elrond. And Thranduil. How many others? Were there others tucked in vaults? Or sealed and scarred? How many had Emma managed to bring to this age?

“I serve my king, Lord Glorfindel. And when my king was sealed away, I served my queen.” Gwathren, who was Banal’ras, said. “My queen… needed me.”

“You said you served the Meddler.” Damon said slowly. “If Thranduil… Your queen… would be Emma…”

Banal’ras’ voice was grieved. “The Meddler is my queen.”

“A ‘tiny meddler’.” Del said softly, wanting very badly to hold his granddaughter. That was what… a friend called her.” He sighed. “And the court picked it up… it was a harmless epesse.”

“And the kids?” Damon’s voice was guarded, closed off. “You endangered her kids.”

Banal’ras shuddered and dropped to one knee. “I… did as I was commanded. Ir abelas. I did not believe danger would befall them from their mother.” 

Del fought to keep his fea and features passive as Damon stared stonily at Gwathren, his eyes gold as he seemed to study the man. “I see…” He blinked away Laurelin’s light then looked… lost. “You honestly believe you were following… Emma. How… how did she speak to you? How did you get your... Orders?” 

Banal’ras looked up at Del, torn, before bowing his head again. “Muninn.”

The word meant nothing to Del, but he felt Damon’s shock and confusion.

“My bird? You’re saying my bird, who… oh gods… who kept preening my hair and rode on my shoulder and would sit on the twins’ cribs… oh.” Damon abruptly stepped back, the blood draining from his face and leaving it grey. “Muninn… the Meddler’s creature… But… but Muninn died… she… she jumped in front of the dragon for me.” 

“Ah.” Del suddenly realized, “She… appeared, millennia ago, bloody and grievously wounded. She claimed she had jumped into a dragon’s mouth to save a dead man.”

“What the hell.” Damon sounded faint. “I thought… I thought she was your bird… but you… oh gods… my sister was… a bird. For months…” He blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “A bird, but giving you orders… leaving notebooks and messages and…” He moved back and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his hand. 

Del could feel his grief and loss and hope and frustration and confusion. He looked at the kneeling ellon, who was resigned and… scared. “What… what will you do with him?”

Damon sighed and lifted a shoulder. “Hell if I know. He’s in there half to keep Sols off of him. Solas is a bit… angry and volatile, and… he feels betrayed. If Em was here, I could just make him her problem, an’ Sols would go with whatever she wanted, but I’m not… Banal’ras was his friend for years, I just run the place, so I got no claim.” 

Banal’ras shut his eyes and bowed his head in shame and guilt and fear. 

Del frowned and straightened his shoulders… he could not tell Damon that Solas was Thranduil… and could not let Solas harm Gwathren…Thranduil would be devastated to slay his childhood friend and captain. “I do.” 

Damon looked up hopefully from his hand. “Yeah? Let’s hear it. I’m tryin’ real hard to keep the guy alive till we get Em back.”

“He is Emma’s… Emma is of my house… and through her, he is under my protection.” 

Damon seemed to mull that over before grinning, relief wisping from him. “Yup! That works. He’s officially your problem, maybe keep him away from Sols if you can.” He hesitated. “And Abelas… Abelas is feeling a bit… ashamed of the closet thing.”

Banal’ras, who was Gwathren, winced. “I… will apologize.”

“Not my problem, thank all the gods above and below, forgotten and alive.” Damon muttered before looking at him in relief. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then pushed off of the wall. “The magic in the doors will recognize your claim, you can get him out whenever you like. I need… I need to go find Solas. He’s panicking.” 

Del watched him leave before turning to Gwathren. The ellon was resigned but his fea was open… honest. “You know who Solas is.” He said in Sindarin, certain none in Fenvhenan knew it.

Gwathren… flinched. “Yes.” 

Del nodded, he had suspected… “You are loyal to him?”

The ellon’s shoulders fell and he nodded. “Yes. Though he may not believe it. How do you protect your king when your queen sings the future into place and asks for your silence?” 

So she swore him to secrecy as well. He was caught in a difficult situation. There was no bond of an Oath on him. He had promised, and had kept his promise for silence even when faced with the possibility of death. Loyal. “Did you wish to stay here? Are you comfortable? Or would you prefer your room? Damon fears for your safety.”

“As far as prisons go, this is the finest I’ve been in.” Gwathren said wryly. “I will be well whatever you decide for me.” 

Del did not want to ask or think about how many prisons the ellon had been in… “Did you… uthenera?”

Gwathren let out a weary sigh. “Some, after… but mostly I guarded. It was my charge and my honor.” 

He could not leave him in the prison. Not… for this. “Come.” He opened the cell and guestured for Gwathren to get up. “You can stay in our rooms until Satinalia. When Miwen returns your King will be restored.”

  
  
  


Everything was falling into place… the lines were drawn for the summoning circle, things set into place for whatever she may need… Babala said the last time… she had been hurt… badly. Terribly injured and… maddened. He had tried to prepare them for that possibility, to warn them she might be broken again. Since the twins were not needed, Damon providing the third, Babala had asked Damon to keep them away, they were too young to see their mother broken… when they reunited they deserved her whole.

Damon had agreed readily. but Legolas had seen the grief in his eyes at the thought of what condition Naneth might be in. His father had not sent for him the first time… did not want him to see her madness and when he had found out years later he had been furious, but… he understood now. 

Solas, Cassandra, Loghain, the father by choice, and Mamaela stood to watch… tension in every line of their bodies.

Now they only waited for the right time… knives hovering over their arms as they watched the moons. Damon spoke, but Legolas did not need the verbal signal, he felt it when the time came, felt the tingle of the ‘fade’ brushing against him as the moons aligned with some sacred shape, some form of ‘fae’ magic according to Damon. The blades bit sharply, and their blood dripped into the center of the careful lines Damon and Babala had drawn in carefully prepared substances. 

Babala and Damon began chanting softly as their blood marked the circle, and Legolas was both unsettled and intrigued to see gold magic rise from their combined blood. The gold was carefully directed by Damon into a swirling shape, then Babala spoke, his words misting with magic like Damon’s did at times.

“Emma, Miwen, Leal’sa.”

Three names. Three names of hers, three sources of blood of hers, three people calling her home. 

He began to feel… drained, exhausted, but he held out, determined to do his part to bring her home even as it felt like his fea was being drawn from him. 

The careful circle they had drawn suddenly exploded in brilliant, searing light that Legolas had to brace himself against lest he be thrown away from his place. And then… just as suddenly the light was gone, the draining sensation was gone, and in their place, kneeling in the center of the circle… was a woman.

No… it was Naneth. She had chopped her hair off, had died it black with the colors of a raven’s feathers mingled in shimmering streaks, but it was her. 

She stood and looked around, and then her shoulders shook a little with some emotion he could not name. 

“EmTi?” Damon said softly, and Naneth… screamed. Screamed and stepped back and gathered magic in her palm.

“You’re dead!” She raised her hand to cast, and Damon held up his own hands.

“I didn’t! I’m not a demon!”

“I felt you die!” She snarled, eyes shimmering and her hands began to tremble. “I buried you!”

“No… you felt our link being torn.” Damon blinked back tears. “I lived, here, and, oh gods… how long have you thought I was dead? I had a son, EmTi. Cass was pregnant when you left. I’m not… I’m not dead.” 

“Miwen… It is him.” Babala stepped between them. “He did not die.”

“Babala?” Naneth whispered, his voice desperate and disbelieving. Her fire died from her hand before it flew to her chest, clawing as if in pain.

”All of us are here, Miwen.” Babala said gently, pointing at him.

“All?” She whispered. Damon took a step towards her and she shook her head violently and stepped backwards, still clutching at her chest. “Stop. Stop!  _ Stop _ !” 

“ _ Emma’lath _ ?” Solas said desperately, reaching for her, and Naneth hissed, her teeth bared before abruptly, she… disappeared. Her silver, her fea, her emotions. She was there… but she was not. All of it locked away and a blank, cold eyed woman left in her place.

“Do not touch me.” 

Damon stumbled back, his hands clenched behind his back, but his eyes were stricken. “Oh. Oh, Em…”

Babala moved slowly, gently. “Miwen?” Her eye’s snapped to him. “Are you injured? What do you need?”

She stared at him coldly before speaking. “A knife. I need to join my blood to the circle. I am not physically injured.” A slight crease of confusion appeared between her brows. “Odd.” 

Babala nodded and very carefully held out his knife. She glanced at it, and then up at him, then lifted the stump of her arm with a raised eyebrow. She held out her other hand. “If you would.” 

Solas made a gutted noise as Babala cautiously opened the flesh of her arm and she let it fall in a circle around herself before holding her arm back out to him as silver light flared from the fallen blood and then sank into the circle. “Would you mind healing it? I’m a bit lessened.” 

Babala did as she asked, all the while Legolas felt his heart break to see his Naneth so… cold. She was bright, mischief, warmth, and love. Not cold.

She abruptly put her hand over her chest and glared at Solas. “Stop. I do not want to be touched… I can’t…there’s not enough of me left.”

“Not enough?” Solas sounded hurt and angry. Legolas slowly stepped forward so he could move to protect her if needed. “There was enough left for his father apparently.” He snarled and gestured sharply at him.

“Sols, I don’t think now is a good time for that.” Damon said cautiously, also inching towards the volatile ellon. 

Naneth's eyes remained cold and her shoulders trembled slightly,but her words… they came out broken despite their flat tone. “You do not understand. He is-“

“I do not understand?!” Solas’ eyes crackled green in pain as he began to walk towards her and Damon took another wary step towards him. “I understand that you promised. Swore you were mine! MINE!”

“Solas!” Damon reached to put a hand on his shoulder but the ellon shook his hand off and kept advancing on Naneth.

Legolas was going to step between them but Babala held up a hand. A signal to stand down, to wait.

“Don’t…” Naneth took another step back her arm wrapping around her middle defensively, a slight spark lit her eyes. “Don’t go there.” 

“What do I not understand? Why do you not show me why I must understand you bearing another’s son?” Solas only stopped when he was standing directly in front of her. “I mourned, grieved, hoped… and you went to another!”

“Show you.” Naneth said quietly. Coldly. “As you wish, ma’lath.” And then her eyes flared silver and Legolas could barely breathe around the pain, grief, rage, madness, bleeding of her fea as she slammed a glowing hand to his forehead.

For an instant, the ellon was still, and then his eyes rolled back and he fell as if slain, though his body shuddered and writhed on the ground.

“Shit!” Damon leaped for him, only to stop and whirl and raise a golden barrier as Naneth began to scream in pained rage, the awful shriek of her voice twisting around a list of names, her magic flaring uncontrollably. Damon grit his teeth and lunged for her, his eyes gold as hers were silver as he grabbed her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, restraining her with his magic and strength as he spoke. “ _ Sleep _ .” 

Naneth thrashed violently at first before she went limp… her fea crackling around them still…  _ hurtpainfearragerunfleenotrealcantberealneverreal. _

Cassandra had rolled Solas onto his side and was watching helplessly, counting under her breath as he seized from Naneth’s magic. Damon grit his teeth as flames licked up his hands, but still he held her. “Some help would be nice?” 

Babala moved and pressed his hand against her chest, pushing his fea towards her… she suddenly relaxed, her fea calming, and Damon slumped to the ground, then eased her onto the earth and moved to Solas, closing his eyes and reaching out with his magic, clasping their right hands together. 

Legolas moved slowly, looking to Babala for permission before picking Naneth up and moving her to the bed they had prepared. 

Eventually, an eternity or a second later, Solas stopped writhing uncontrollably, and Damon fell back as if exhausted. “Well… shit.” He swayed and his wife rushed to support him. “She… she can’t be around the kids like that. She… really fucked over his mind.” 

Babala sighed heavily. “She returned what was lost.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Damon sighed. “I’m… probably gonna pass out in a second.” 


	23. Chapter 23

Emma was kept in the dungeon, a cell made for prisoners with magic… and it grieved Del’s heart to see her in this state once again. Sitting on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest, rocking with vacant eyes… she had locked her fea away again… he could see her, but could not  _ feel _ her.

He brought her food, the only one that could draw near without her flying into a rage. Solas had woken, but he stayed in his own room, sitting with his eyes closed, eyes flickering behind his lids as if reading within his mind. He had not moved in days. Damon stayed with him, overcome by the emotions bleeding through their link and unable to leave him alone as he re-lived thousands of years in his mind.

She had not moved from her spot in days. 

“Lunch.”

“I want to see them.” Her voice was hoarse. She had screamed most of the night. “My girls.” 

He sighed and set down the tray of food, sitting carefully on the bed next to her. “Not yet, child.” He said gently, pulling a comb from his pocket. Damon was worried about leaving anything she could hurt herself with within the cell. “Soon.”

“I don’t know how long I have this time. If it works. My story’s running out. I want to see them.” 

He carefully pulled the comb through her now short black strands. Sometimes streaks of silver, blue, green, or even purple would surface, like a raven’s feathers in sunlight. “The ritual tied you here, sweetling. You are here. You just need to settle.” 

“Settle.” Her voice sounded distant. “I want to see them.” 

“Soon.” He continued to comb out her hair.

“I said soon to a man tens of thousands of years ago.” She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Soon isn’t good enough.” 

“I know… I know, child.” He pulled her into his lap and held her. He held her until her tattered fea reappeared, and sobs wracked her shoulders. 

“I- did I-? Ma’Solas? I didn’t me-“ 

“He lives. He is… sorting through his mind.” He held her tighter, and kissed her hair.

“He won’t want me.” She wept brokenly. “Not after that… not after… I couldn’t.-“

“Shhh,” he rocked her gently, he hoped when Thranduil’s memories were intact he might be able to reach her, help her… somehow.

  
  
  
  


Rochelle was dissatisfied with the information she and the other children were being given. Apparently their mamae had returned, had attacked their babae, and now they weren’t allowed to see her. It sounded like tas de merde.

So Rain put tiny little barriers over the charm bracelets of the wolf children, and they snuck into the dungeon under the cover of the twin’s spells and Gaelathe’s ‘notice me not’ charm. She had spent the past few days subtly watching the giant elf’s schedule, and they went in after he left. It wasn’t hard to find her. 

She… looked terrible. Short black hair, thin with circles under her eyes, one arm missing, sitting and rocking on the bed.

“ _ Mamae _ ?” Ash rasped in horror.

The woman on the bed jerked, her head snapping up, eyes cold and gray. It made Rochelle shiver and Ant buried his face into her shoulder as she reflexively stepped back. The twins hid behind Gaelathe and Rain. 

Ash was the only one who didn’t step back under the woman’s gaze. The woman glanced over them. “How did you get in here?” 

“I brought them.” Rochelle hesitantly offered. “They wanted to see you, but Amelan wasn’t letting them.”

The woman looked at them in that… dead gaze. “Amelan? Guardian. Tanathe Amelan?”

“Papa. He… he goes by Amelan around grownups.” Isy quietly said. “He… he said you're our mamae.” 

The woman looked at Isy and… light suddenly flashed in her eyes before they dulled again. “What is your name?”

“I am Gaelathe, the first child.” Gaelathe said quietly, his solemn eyes fixed on the mad woman. “She is Iselan, that is Emmaera, Ash stands before you. Danielle is distracting Mama. The little one is Anthony, he was born after you were taken.”

The woman looked at each of them, her eyes lingering on each of them before… she turned her head, looking at the wall. “You should not be here.”

“Probably not, but that doesn’t seem to stop me too much.” Rochelle tried to joke, to help put the Littles at ease. 

Rain spoke quietly in Qunlat. “I can only hold the barrier for another minute. They will find us soon.” 

Ash grunted, and dug in his pocket before pulling out a… “Ash, you can’t pick the lock!”

“ **Watch me** .” He signed, his jaw set before leaning over the lock.

“Rain can’t hold the barrier much longer, they’ll track us here, and they’re going to catch you picking a lock. Again.” She hissed. 

Ash just snorted again, ignoring her as he worked at the lock.

“You think we’re not real, Ash can’t speak, Anthony shouldn’t exist, the girls and I were tiny. It’s all wrong and you can’t feel us because you locked yourself away.” Gaelathe said sadly. “You think we’re not real.”

The woman flinched and did not look at them, even as Ash somehow managed to open the door and step inside. Rochell was convinced this was a very, very bad idea. She stepped back even as Gaelathe frowned and stepped forward. 

He walked to the bed. “You used to sing to me. You would sing, and then you would feel… this.” He closed his eyes and Rochelle felt a slight flicker of magic from him. 

The woman gasped and pressed herself against the wall, shaking her head. “I can’t… I can’t.”

Ash looked stricken, before he climbed onto the bed in front of her, signing. “ **No magic** .” before grabbing her in a hug. 

This was a very bad idea. 

(Emma's new hair color)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not, the next part of the series will be up in the morning!


End file.
